


Unhappy Birthday

by kdandsheela



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Adoptive Parents - Freeform, Detectives Claire & Toby, Draal the Overcompensater, Dreams and Nightmares, First Rite, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Magic, Missing Persons, Morgana is Creepy, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Step-parents, Troll Daddies are the Best Daddies, Troll Jim Lake Jr., Who knew?, magical transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdandsheela/pseuds/kdandsheela
Summary: Things always seem to go wrong for Jim, especially on his birthday.The only reason the teen thinks that this year might be different is because, since his dad first left, he's in a family of three again.His mom married his favorite teacher, and though Jim mostly keeps the fact to himself, he's ecstatic about it. For once, it feels like things will finally go right for the boy.After all ... his step-dad makes the best tea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blue Moon Rising](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631847) by [Eclipsia (tunafishprincess)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunafishprincess/pseuds/Eclipsia). 
  * Inspired by [Adjustments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821596) by [Werepirechick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick). 



> Soooo, I've been obsessed with this fandom and its many awesome writers for awhile and I've been mulling over this story for handful of months.
> 
> I have a good amount written but I'm not sure if I'd like to make a promise for regular uploads considering I'm still ironing out some plot kinks. But I'm really satisfied with this first chapter, so I hope you like it!

Jim groaned as his alarm went off. He was usually a morning person, but today part of him wondered if he could just skip this day altogether. His mom didn’t work a graveyard shift last night, which means that she’ll come in any moment with her famous ‘birthday pancakes’ with this upbeat happy energy that made Jim’s throat close up in guilt when he couldn’t match it. The early sunlight and significance of the day just made him want to grab his pillow and turn his back on the entire world. However, before he could do just that there was a knock on the door. His mom wasn’t one to knock (even though Jim had tried to have “the talk” that a mother shouldn’t walk into the bedroom of her teenage son without knocking first).

“Come in,” Jim called as he sat up.  Walking in, already dressed for the day in a sharp tan suit and turtleneck, was Mr. Strickler, or “Walt” as he had asked Jim to call him. Jim wasn’t sure if he was ever really going to get used to it: Calling Mr. Strickler Walt _or_ living with him, but Jim still smiled when his step-dad came over and affectionately ruffed his hair.

“I believe someone has a special day today,” the man said with his hands behind his back and a soft smile.

“Nope, nothing special, just another completely unextraordinary day in the life of Jim Lake.”

Walter frowned at that, “Why, Jim, isn’t it your birthday? In fact, it’s your sixteenth birthday, and unless I stand corrected, in modern times that is seen as a notable milestone.”

Jim groaned, “It’s not like I all of a sudden jumped to being a whole year older, I’m only a day older than when I went to bed last night, like what happens every other night. It’s just an arbitrary date.”

Walter rubbed his chin in thought, “Hmmmm, you may be correct in that regard. However, it _is_ the arbitrary date your mother uses to know when to make her, well, famous ‘burnt birthday pancakes’.”

Jim sniffed the air, “Do I smell smoke?”

Walter immediately straightened up, one hand behind his back, another gripping the inner edge of his suit jacket, “I was simply joking about the burnt part, but … it is perhaps appropriate to go check on your mother in the kitchen.”

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. Even with Walter having moved in, he still acted … painfully formal; Jim suspected that it was a partly because of his dry sense of humor. Besides that, however, some things had slid right into place from the moment he moved in. Sometimes things felt the same, but better. There were three people watching during movie night, three people eating dinner, three people to do the chores, three people who could talk to one another.

Jim wouldn’t have said that being a part of a two-person household was lonely, but he was also willing to admit that he had forgotten how livly the dynamic could be in a family of three. He finally had someone to lament his mom’s cooking with. Someone he could ask homework questions when his mom was stuck in a graveyard shift. Another person to say good night to. Another person to say good morning to. Jim had almost forgotten what all of that was like. Part of him was happy to relive it, the rest of him felt on edge about it.

There was always a part of the teen’s mind that felt cynicism towards any bit of happiness he found, reminded him that good things were fleeting, that things always change. Jim wasn’t going to pretend that he lived in destitute, but sometimes the teen couldn’t help but feel that nothing ever really goes right in his life. He shook his head. This was the last (but sadly most common) thing he should be thinking about on his birthday. He quickly got up and got dressed, heading down the stairs to see Walter and his mom already sitting, the kitchen stinking of burnt food.

“Honey! Come sit down and eat your pancakes!” his mother chirped, her blue eyes surprisingly bright for the morning. She always requests not to get scheduled for a night shift before Jim’s birthday. Jim felt conflicted between feeling appreciated and feeling like a burden. He loved spending time with his mom, but he also knew that his mom had a demanding job with irregular yet inflexible hours.

“Yes, Jim, you wouldn’t want to eat them after they get cold, would you?” Walter grinned at him from across the table. This was why he loved — well … _admired_ the history teacher. Besides the dry humor, Walter could insert intrigue into almost any topic. Even though Jim didn’t consider himself a _bad_ student he definitely failed to self-motivate and study specific subjects, including history, but Walter would talk about it like he was _there_. Everything had a special touch, a handful of side comments and personal opinion in the mix. Jim didn’t peg himself as a random trivia guy, either, but the way Walter always seemed to be able to relate it to back to something relevant was addicting. Getting ‘Mr. Strickler’ for World History was probably one of the best things that happened to him last year (and that was probably true for his mother, too).

Jim smiled and tried not to grimace as he ate his special ‘birthday pancakes’. Today should be a happy day, he reminded himself. This birthday was going to be different from all the others. Not because he was sixteen but because he once again had another person to share it with.

Walter got up with a sigh, “Alas, I need to get to the school early to put some finishing details on today’s lesson plans.”

“But you haven’t even finished your pancakes!” Barbara tsked.

“Forgive me,” He pecked her on the cheek, “My appetite isn’t agreeing with my desire to celebrate this morning.”

She chuckled, “Alright, as long as you know to come back tonight, I don’t want any excuses!”

Walt smiled and walked over to where Jim was still sitting and put a hand on his shoulder, “And Jim; I know this may sound tiresome coming from an old man like myself, but you should enjoy youth while you can. Sometimes it feels as if you put the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Jim rolled his eyes at the reference to the somewhat strange nickname the teacher had given him, “Alright, alright, no more ‘Young Atlas this, Young Atlas that’ for the birthday boy today, I can only take so many mythology references in one day.” Leave it to Walter to make even his displays of affection incredibly obscure and nerdy as hell. His step-dad smiled at him before going out the door.

“Ah! I almost forgot! Jim, I’ve got your present in the garage!” His mother jumped up from her chair. When Jim heard the word ‘garage’ he immediately perked up and followed her. Was this finally going to be the day he got his own —

“It’s the Magical Food Processor 3000!” His mom claimed proudly, presenting the red blender to him.

“Oh wow, that’s …” Jim scratched the back of his head awkwardly. His eyes caught a black tarp covering a box that wasn’t there before, “What’s that?”

“Oh! That’s, uh, it’s nothing! Actually, I just realized when I gave you your gift that Walt completely forgot to bring his lunch.”

“That’s alright, mom, I’ll just bring it to his office when I get to school.”

She smiled, “Thank you, Jim. I don’t know what I _or_ Walt would do without you.”

* * *

 

Not knowing was driving Jim _insane_ , so when he finally decided that he was going to go into Walter’s office just a _little_ early to look for some receipts while the teacher wasn’t there, he didn’t feel too bad about it. He knew the chances were slim, but a part of him enjoyed the deviance of it, the possibility of being caught, along with the possibility that he might discover the one thing he’s wanted since he was ten.

He tried to be respectful enough of Walter’s office, putting everything back where it would belong, not bothering with drawers that were locked. The longer he looked around the more guilty he felt. What was he _doing_? Sure Walter was his step-dad but he was also breaking into a teacher’s office. Before Jim could change his mind he heard the rattle of the doorknob and dove behind the the closest piece of furniture.

‘Mr. Strickler’ walked into his office, smiling when he saw the brown paper bag on his desk. He sat down and started examining the contents of his meal, “I appreciate you delivering my lunch, Young Atlas, but would you like to explain why you are hiding behind my filing cabinet?”

Jim quickly got up, his cheeks flushed, “W-well, you see, I was delivering your lunch … and … uh … I just,” the teen cut himself off mid-sentence, he had almost tried to come up with a less than convincing lie to cover up his deeds but he knew that  his step-father could smell lies a mile away, especially, frustratingly, when it came to his teenage step-son, “I was looking to see if you had gotten me anything for my birthday.”

Walter softly smiled, getting up and examining the many knick knacks on his office wall, “It’s times like these that make me think you would make a marvelous changeling … even if you’re a terrible liar.”

Ignoring the latter jab at his deception abilities Jim got out from behind the cabinet and stood next to his step-father, “What’s a changeling?”

Walter turned to him, his smile closed mouthed, “A changeling is a magical creature, swapped with the infant of an unsuspecting family who raise it.”

“Okay … what does that have to do with me hiding behind your filing cabinet?” Jim asked, a bit confused.

“Changelings, Young Atlas, are creatures of two worlds; ours and theirs. Because of this, they are often spies.”

“So … you’re saying I’d make a good spy.”

“Exactly.”

Jim’s eyes moved from Walter’s face to the wall, “So you’re not mad at me for breaking into your office?”

Walter chuckled, “No, I am not.” He placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “Though I _am_ upset that you’d think I might not have gotten anything for your birthday.”

Jim could feel his ears go red, a trait he got from his mother, “I’m sorry.” 

Walter’s smile came back as he picked up a manilla folder and tapped the top of Jim’s head, “Pay it no mind. Now if you stick around much longer you might get Tobias worrying.”

“Oh right!” Jim ran out the door only to lean back through the door frame, “Mr. Strickler?”

“Yes, Jim?” he said, tone filled with affection.

“I’ll see you back home.”

“As will I.”

* * *

 

Jim was grabbing the books from his locker when a voice startled him, “Are you coming to rehearsal today?” 

“Shit!” Jim swore under his breath before facing his co-star, “Sorry, Claire, my mind was focused on later plans, but thanks for reminding me!”

Claire smiled and leaned her shoulder on the locker next to his, “It’s not like you to be forgetful, Jim.”

Jim felt his face heat up, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jim had, under Toby’s perhaps misguided romantic advise, signed up for the play at the last minute. Apparently they were supposed to have memorized select monologues to audition with and Jim kinda … made it up on spot. Either his improvisational skills were amazing, or the shortage of boys trying out for the play were just as abysmal as Claire claimed, either way Jim was surprised to have found out that he had made the part of Romeo’s understudy.

Claire leaned in closer, “Did you hear?”

Jim threw his books into his backpack, brows lowering in concern, “No, hear what?”

“Steve got into an accident on his Vespa! He’s got a concussion and Ms. Janeth says that _he’s_ the understudy now!

Jim straightened out, stunned, “No … I didn’t hear that,” his smile turned conspiratorial, “Do you eat lunch with Ms. Janeth or something? Because you always seem to hear these things before I do.”

Claire laughed, “As if! You may complain about all the faculty here but I bet you’re secretly a teacher’s pet.”

Jim tilted his head. He and Walt had previously discussed that Jim was allowed to reveal the nature of their new relationship to any students he wanted to. Part of Jim wanted to get to know Claire, wanted Claire to get to know him despite the possible awkwardness, “Did you know Strickler’s my step-dad?”

Claire’s face morphed into shock, “What? No! Wait … when did that happen?”

“He and my mom got married over the summer. It’s not really a secret but I’m pretty sure that if you tell Mary the whole school will know the next day.”

“I’m sure of that, too, but isn’t it weird? Having your teacher become your step-dad?”

Jim shrugged and swung his backpack over his shoulder, “Luckily my mom has good enough tastes to pick the _one_ teacher I don’t hate here.”

Claire chuckled, “Lucky you,” she spotted Mary and Darci waving at her before turning to face Jim again, “Well, I’ll see you on the stage Romeo!”

“See ya,” Jim waved as she turned and left, leaning his back on his lock and sighing as he watched her leave.

Maybe this year it _would_ be a good birthday.

* * *

 

Jim had promised Toby that he’d stop by for some quality time that day. By now Toby knew that Birthdays were a sensitive subject for Jim and did little more than greet him at the door before escorting him upstairs for some much needed bro time.

It was in the middle of their second round of Gun Robot Battle Royale that Toby finally spoke up, “So, how are you and Mr. Strickler doing?”

Jim chuckled, “Good, it’s good.”

“Good,” came the stout reply.

Jim rolled his eyes, “Are you worried about me, Tobes?”

Toby threw his controller down, “Of course I’d be worried, Jim! You’re my best friend and it’s just been making me feel weird!”

Jim sighed and quit the game for the both of them before putting his controller down and looking at his friend, “Look Tobes, I know Mr. Strickler was never your favorite but things at home are really good right now! Me and Mom couldn’t be happier.”

“I know, I know, it’s just … sometimes I can’t help but think that things aren’t really adding up, you know?”

Jim’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean? What’s not adding up?”

Toby shook his head, “Jim! Your mom hadn’t even been dating him for a year by the time they got married! Actually _you’ve_ known him longer than she has!”

“Six months is a long time to date.” Jim muttered defensively.

Toby waved his hand toward Jim in exasperation, “Dude! You think that because it’s, like, one-thirty second of your entire lifespan! Adults, especially _previously married_ adults, take _years_ to date before getting engaged, not months!”

“Not everyone’s like that. Maybe he’s just the right one? Maybe something was telling my mom that he was the right choice for our family.”

“Do _you_ think he’s the right choice for your family?”

“I do!” Jim leaned back on his hands looking up at Toby’s ceiling and sighing out his nose, “Have you ever felt like you wanted more in life?” 

Toby frowned, “More? More what?” 

“You know,” Jim motioned around the room, “More excitement, more adventure. Just … _more_! I don’t know, Tobes. Sometimes I need to feel like there’s more to life than just highschool, and Walt helps with that. He always has tales from history and mythology and he’s just so —”

“— Smug and british?”

“I … was going to say _worldly_ , but, honestly, you’re not far from the truth,” Jim smirked at his friend.

Toby couldn’t help but chortle at that, “Alright, alright, I admit it, I’m being a butt about your step-dad.”

“You’re not being a butt,” Jim scooted closer to hug Toby, “You’re being a good friend.”

* * *

 

Jim was, for the thousandth time, grateful that he lived across the street from his childhood friend as he walked home. His birthday nights were often filled with his mom attempting to overfeed him and board games and Jim had no doubt that tonight would be any different.

And Jim was right. His mom knew by now that store bought was the way to go and the small family dug in (after the obligatory candle blowing and singing, of course). After their fill of triple chocolate cake Walt got up, “Now, I believe, would be a good time to receive your gift.”

Jim got up excitedly, “What did you get me?”

His step-father smiled, “You’ll have to come with me to the garage to find out.”

Jim shook off his deja vu and went into the garage with his mom following behind him. The moment Walt threw up the tarp to reveal a box of Vespa parts Jim knew it was going to be a good day, “Long seattle seat, original headlight? You got me all the parts of a vintage 1955 Vespa! How did you even find these?!”

Walt stood straight, arms behind his back, and smile wide, “I have my ways.”

“You two need find separate hiding spots for presents next year. Mom, did you know about this?”

Barbara couldn’t help but fold her arms, “I didn’t, actually, and I’m not sure how much I love the idea of you on a scooter.”

Walt turned to his wife, “That’s why, Barbara, I thought I could help Jim build one so that he might feel less inclined to … total his first vehicle.”

Jim felt the urge to argue that he would _never_ total a beautiful Vespa of any kind but realized that Walt was trying to spin a story for him.

“I’m not worried about _Jim_ trying to total his scooter, I’m worried about _other_ people, other _kids_ driving things much _bigger_ and heavier than a scooter. I work in a hospital, I’ve seen what happens to people. A kid came in _today_ with a concussion from one of those Italian Scooters from Hell. I’d feel much safer if Jim drove something with a few tons of Detroit steel separating him from other drivers.”

Walt smiled and put a hand on her shoulder, “Maybe you will feel differently when we’ve completed building it.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled as her body language relaxed, “I probably won’t but I know you; you let Jim get away with everything,” she retorted flirtatiously.

“I do not,” he argued back with no real anger, taking a step closer to the red head.

Barbara wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’d let Jim get away with murder, and you know it.”

“Well, I suppose if that’s what he wanted to do for his birthday, I’d let it slide this once.”

The doctor threw her head back and laughed.

Jim just stood there and shook his head in amusement as he watched his parents’ antics. They had been married for a couple of months already and still acted like sappy newlyweds most of the time. Jim secretly loved it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his mom so happy. He also liked being able to witness all the “soft spots” possessed by his prim and proper history teacher, and tease said educator about when left alone with him.

* * *

 

Jim and Walt were at the kitchen table cleaning up the board games played that night. Barbara had been called in for a night shift. It would’ve put a much larger damper on the night if Jim had still been living with just his mom and left alone for the remainder of the night but now he had a step-dad to also look after him, and said step-dad was steeping some of his locally famous tea.

After the board games Walt put the tea set on the table. The aroma instantly hit Jim as he held his cup to his face. The teenager grinned as took his first gulp felt the warm liquid glide down his throat. The sensation never failed to make him feel tingly and safe. His step-dad made the best tea.

Walt sat across from him occasionally sipping his tea, “Today has been quite exciting, hasn’t it? I thought we could both use some relaxing refreshments.”

“Mmmmhmm,” Jim couldn’t muster much more than that as the warmth from the tea began to spread throughout his body. His step-dad made the best tea.

“Jim, forgive me if this comment is out of place but … I hope that we may celebrate many more birthdays together.”

The boy felt buzzed as his words slurred together, “Hmmmm, well, we just did mine, and my mom’s was earlier this year. Wait, when’s _your_ birthday? How old are you, anyways?”

Walt chuckled, “Let’s not worry about that just yet. I forgot to mention it but there are still a few more hours left of your birthday and I have another present for you.”

Jim mouth dropped open, “No way! You got me a _second_ present? You didn’t have to do that!”

Walt smiled, his chin resting on his hands as he leaned on the table, “Oh, do not worry Jim. It’s my pleasure, really. Now, why don’t you finish up your tea and I’ll show it to you?”

“No problem!” Jim cheered before he drained the last that was in his cup. Immediately the fuzziness in his head intensified and his eyes felt heavier. He sighed as he laid his head on the table and closed his eyes.

His step-dad made the best tea.

* * *

Jim was in darkness. Not the darkness of his bedroom, with the street lamp shining outside his window, casting his furniture in long shadows. Not the darkness of the woods, with the starlight and nocturnal chorus for company. This was true darkness, it was void, the truest black that could be witnessed … and he was suspended in it. He was floating, yet still. Somewhere but nowhere.

Above him he saw an oval of light with … colors and the vaguest of shapes. It was like he was in an underwater cave and the one opening to the surface was miles above him, the ripples of the sea distorting the surface world. 

All at once he felt the darkness trying to envelop his body. He struggled, but soon felt a pair of hands holding him down as a beige colored shape entered the oval of light. He continued struggling as the darkness crept further along his limbs, closer to his head and torso. With the darkness there was pain, like his bones were being broken then pushed back together wrong, like his flesh was being ripped off his very body. He screamed as he thrashed, wanting it to stop but knowing that it wouldn’t.

As the darkness crawled up his neck he heard a voice from far away say, “The eternal night is upon us.”

Another voice spoke loud and sharp from inside his head, “And you will have a body built to survive it …  a body built to be my champion.” 

And then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my favorite lines out of everything I've written so far are in this first chapter! 
> 
> One of the lines I really like I actually took from my dad. I've always been attracted to mopeds, scooters, and motorcycles but when I told my dad this he tried to make me swear I'd never ride one and told me that he wanted "a few extra tons of Detroit steel protecting me".
> 
> I couldn't pass up the opportunity to use the line. Even if Barbara calling Vespas "Italian Scooters from Hell" and then referring to "Detroit Steel" felt a little ethnocentric.
> 
> Another line I love is Toby calling Strickler smug and British. Toby, in the show, is often the voice of caution (though it's often played for laughs at his character's expense, imo), so I really wanted to write him throughout the story as the cynical/realistic voice in the room, and I can't wait to publish his other scenes in future chapters!
> 
> Until next time


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for the fantastic feedback and the many reads and kudos! I'm adding tags as I go and I kinda realized that with only the tags "step-parents" and "magic" along with the vague summary describing the first chapter, and some of the surprised comments that it probably seemed like a fluff piece at first ... so sorry if that's what you were expecting! Either way, this fic is going to run a bit on the dark side in the future but I hope that you will still enjoy it!
> 
> On that same note, a multitude of tags will be added for this chapter and I'm going to try to be conscientious to add any warning that may apply.
> 
> That being said: please enjoy chapter 2!

Jim woke up with a start only to find himself in his bathtub … with his clothes still on. Strange. Though the teen was no stranger to spending an all-nighter studying only to find that he had fallen asleep in less than normal locations he couldn’t imagine why he would enter the tub without first taking off his clothes. He slowly got out of the tub and walked towards the door.

He stopped, however, when he caught something at the edge of his vision. He glanced at the mirror above the sink and froze. He knew, in reality, that he was looking at a mirror, but the person looking back at him wasn’t … him. He was … blue and had horns and fangs. He slowly looked down at his hands and started shaking seeing the blue skin and black nails.

He needed to run, he needed to get some fresh air, he needed —

“Jim, I can explain,” Walt stood at the top of the stairs, eyes wide, hands raised in a stopping motion.

Jim’s heartbeat increased as flashes of vivid memory came to him:

The tub.

The darkness.

The tea.

His step-dad always did make the best tea.

Before Jim even though about doing it he hopped the railing and ran down the stairs.

“Jim!”

The boy could hear the elder’s own footsteps pounding the wooden steps, which further encouraged his race towards the back door. Adrenaline was in his blood and before he even realized it he had broken the door clean off of its frame and jumped his fence, running into the woods on all four.

* * *

It had been a few hours since his initial escape, though the boy wasn’t keeping track of the time. He knew that it was dark out, as it was night and he was doing a fair job of avoiding the streets and lights, but he could see almost perfectly this strange world painted in blues and purples. He could clearly hear the fellow denizens of the nocturnal forest. And when he raised his head to smell the air his mind processed the scent of flora, fauna, and _wilderness_.

Jim’s mouth broke out into a smile as he started a mad dash, evading boulders, dodging trees, hopping over streams. Sometimes he’d find himself on all fours, sometimes running on two feet, and other times he’d be jumping from branch to branch among the treetops. He fluidly moved between these forms as if he had been born in the body he’d just been given. As if he was born within the forest itself.

Jim didn’t know the how, when, or why. He didn’t know the where, either, he just knew where _not_ to go. Tub, darkness, tea. He growled and shook his head, trying to rid these thoughts. Running felt good, not thinking felt good. He would continue on like this until he no longer could.

Jim hadn’t realized that he had been running all night until he noticed the sky becoming lighter. He panted, discovering that he was thirsty. He tilted his head and heard the trickling of a small stream nearby. He walked over to it, and crouched down in a way that felt oddly comfortable. As he leaned over he caught a bit of his blue reflection in the water. He stared at it, transfixed until he could feel thoughts and feelings bubbling up from somewhere deep in his mind. He splashed the surface in frustration. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to feel.

By the time he had drank his fill he was feeling a little more than sleepy. By now the sun was visible in the sky and it was warm but it was also so _bright_. The colors and the sounds of the forest were too sharp, too loud. He desperately needed some shade, something to rest under. Luckily for him he soon came across a rock cropping which held a cave.

The cave was cool and damp and smelled of earth and security. Jim immediately found the best place to sleep near the back of the cave and shut his eyes.

* * *

It was raining outside at the time, but the doctor couldn’t have noticed such a thing if she tried. She’s waited the minimum 24 hours, dammit, and she’s going to get her son back if the universe wants her to or not.

“Have you noticed any missing possessions since your son has gone missing?”

Barbara crossed her arms and gave the police officer a hard look, “No, I have not.” The officer was a young woman with long brunette hair tied into a tight ponytail.

“Did your son ever mention wanting to visit some place in particular?”

“No.”

“Has your son ever expressed having romantic feelings for any individual to you?”

“Again, no.”

“Did your son —”

Barbara suddenly stood up from the living room loveseat, “My son left with _nothing_ . Not his phone, not his wallet, not a _single word_ . He was just given a Vespa, for God’s sake. If my son had really meant to run away don’t you think he would’ve _taken_ these things? Don’t you think he would’ve said or done _anything_ out of the ordinary? Well, he didn’t!”

A still seated Walt put his hand on her arm, “Barbara, they are just doing their job. Runaways need to be determined so that the authorities can use their resources on cases that … well, on _other_ cases.”

The worried mother sat down with a sigh, “You’re right … I’m sorry. I’m just … _so worried_ . Jim has never acted out in his _life_. I could never believe that he would run away without saying anything to me.”

“Jim,” Strickler took a deep breath as he rubbed his wife’s arm, “Has a tendency to put the weight of the world upon his shoulders, you know that better than anyone else. Perhaps the fact that he’s never acted out before is precisely why he has done so now. You know how teenagers are sometimes; they act like everything is the end of the world! He may have … needed a break from it all.”

“But he … would just tell me that, don’t you think?”

“Barbara,” Walt caressed the redhead’s cheek, “If teenagers told their parents everything, they wouldn’t be so hard to raise. I may not know exactly what has happened to Jim but I promise you, I will bring him back.”

She frowned and put her hand on top of his, “I can’t ask that of you, Walt. He’s _my_ son.”

The older man flinched at the implications, “I know that I’ve only known Jim for a little over a year, and this might not be my place to say, but I … at this point I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I’m going to do everything I can, Barbara, do not worry for me _or_ your son.”

She smiled, “Help me bring him home … Walt.”

* * *

Walt drove the car through the winding roads of the forest preserve. As soon as it was discovered that Jim had no access to transportation when he left Barbara had organized search parties. Walt couldn’t find a way to discourage her from getting the humans to comb the forests without looking like he was actively halting the search effort. He already had enough scrutiny being the newly wedded stepfather who was the last to see the teen.

He wanted Jim home as much as anyone else but he knew _he_ had to be the one to find him. Jim was all alone, scared out of his mind somewhere out there in the forests. Not understanding what had happened to his body. Not understanding that all he had to do was shift and he could come back home. Walt had meant to teach him these things to the boy but he had panicked and fled. Walt didn’t blame him for the reaction but cursed himself for the great inconvenience.

Walt parked the car on the dirt road, finally satisfied with his selected search area for the day. As he walked through the woods he watched the speckled sunlight dance on the floor with the leaves rustling, heard the irregular yet calming bird song. Walt felt grateful having been able to experience living in human civilization, but there was always something that pulled him toward nature. The changeling had a hunch that it was to same for trolls as it was humans, but trolls did not seem to have the same rich history in transcendentalist literature for him to go off of.

A light breeze caressed the Changeling’s face and he scented it automatically. Mose, water, wood and … something else. The man’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued to followed the opposite direction of the wind coming across a small cave. Walt took a deep breath at the mouth of cave smelling a dead deer and … _Jim_ . Or, well, what Jim smelled like _now_. The top notes of kitchen spices was still there but the undertones of human flesh had been replaced with earth and pine and marble. His scent was old but it was all around the cave, telling Walt that he had taken the time to scent mark it. Walt peered inside the cave blinking his night vision on. Jim was leaning on a lot of other new instincts if the deer corpse and nest of twigs was anything to go by.

The man was afraid what state his son would be in by the time he found him, but he would find him. And they would be a family again. Forever.

* * *

For Jim time seemed to stretch yet contract all at once. He lived moment to moment, day to day. His life was a cycle. He slept in the day and emerged in the night. He drank from the streams and river and hunted the animals. And, most importantly of all, he avoided the humans. He didn’t really understand _why_ he was avoiding them, he just knew that he had to, knew he couldn’t be seen. Sometimes there would be groups of humans calling out his name, waking him from his sleep. Part of him always screamed to run out of the cave he was hiding in and tell them that he was here, he was alive, he wanted to go home, but he always held that part back. Even when it hurt him he understood. He could never go back home.

He often moved caves, afraid that he’d be found. He hated it. He hated feeling afraid, hated feeling like he was running away from something. He found himself, more than once, in a cozy cave, with a well-constructed nest, and a fresh kill that he was still working on, almost radiating contentment, only to get that nagging feeling to keep on moving. Jim never moved too far away from the city. He didn’t know why, yet at the same time he did. Even though he tried to lock more and more of his mind away, he still trusted it to tell him what to do. It hadn’t failed him yet.

His life was a cycle; drink, hunt, sleep, avoid. Day after day. Night after night. Jim could often time smell or hear the humans long before they got close to him. If Jim weren’t afraid of being found he’d love to play around with the deaf and scent-blind humans. Alas, they never found any evidence of Jim Lake, Jr. As time passed less and less humans would search for him until they stopped altogether. Jim felt relieved that they had stopped looking, but the locked part of his mind reminded him that he still had to avoid being seen by anyone who _wasn’t_ actively looking for him. His mind was such a killjoy.

* * *

One night Jim was up to his usual exploration when he caught a scent he hadn’t smelled before. Jim cautiously followed it, feeling nervous as the trees thinned around him. Eventually he came upon a landfill. Normally he would never even go near a street, but the scent was too interesting to resist. He decided that, even if he had to cross a street, scavenging was a worthy pursuit for that night. The locked part of his mind screamed that he should find the garbage piles filthy and nasty and not fit for eating, but the rest of Jim respectfully disagreed.

“I’m telling you, Arg, you’re not going to find any socks this time of year.” a voice said with an air of dignity.

“Look one more time,” a deep, slow voice boomed out.

Jim crept across the street and peered through the chain link fence to see two large figures digging through a pile of trash. One turned in Jim’s direction staring at hi with three pairs of glowing red eyes. Jim gasped and immediately hid behind a dumpster, clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Arg, did you hear that?”

There was just a hum in response before the two started making their way toward Jim. The boy could hear their footsteps coming closer and closer but couldn’t seem to get himself to move. He had been doing the absolute most to ensure that he did not encounter any other intelligent life up to this point, but he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t moving, why he was frozen still.

“Why, hello there!”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Jim screamed as he cowered from those six eyes looking down on him from atop the dumpster.

The even bigger one walked around the dumpster and gave him a wide smile showing off all those gruesome teeth, “Hi!”

Jim screamed again, hands pushing against the metal dumpster side behind him.

“Says ‘ah’ a lot,” the big one concluded.

“Perhaps he is trying to greet us!”

“Looks afraid,” countered the huge green and grey one.

“Oh!” the smaller six eyed one climbed off the dumpster and picked up Jim by the shoulders, setting him gently on his feet, standing on two legs Jim was almost as tall as the blue one, “You have nothing to fear from us, little one! I am Blinkous, but you may call me Blinky. And my large friend here is named Arg.”

“Mmmmmmm, nice to meet you.”

The two looked at Jim for a while, waiting for him to introduce himself but Jim found himself staring back speechless. They smelled of stone rather than flesh, they smelled a lot closer to how he smelled now, but the obscured part of his mind screamed at him to run, that these two were monsters and that he had to get away.

“Too young to speak?”

“Arg, the whelp is small, but he is not _that_ small,” the six-eyed troll scolded before turning back to Jim, “Pray tell us, where in the world did you come from?”

Jim had no idea to answer that. He was from _here_ , Arcadia. He had never _not_ been from Arcadia, he had never even left the city borders, despite living in the surrounding woods. And surely the two were not asking him to show them the last cave he made a nest out of. In fact, where in the world had Arg and Blinky come from?

The six-eyed one turned to his friend, worry evident in his voice, “Arg, what should we do?”

“Don’t know,” he supplied unhelpfully.

“Coming across whelps is rare enough as it is, but this one seems wholly and completely unsupervised, which is appalling! Whelps should be cherished!”

“Chair … rash?”

Blinky put all four of his hands together, “Cherished; it means beloved and treasured.”

“Mmmmmmm, whelps should be-loved.”

Blinky raised a finger into the air, “Exactly my point!”

“Orphan?”

Blinky’s face fell, “I’d like to think otherwise, but you may be right in that regard.”

“Take to trollmarket.”

“A very good idea, Arg! We may even find someone able to identify him,” Blinky clapped all four hands together and once away looked towards Jim, “Well, little one, it’s been decided, we shall accompany you to trollmarket."

Jim couldn’t help but nod along agreeably, which made Blinky smile. He didn’t really understand what this trollmarket was or why he was being called a whelp, but he could tell that the two were worried about him. As Arg and Blinky lead the way the boy paused to look behind. The landfill was placed on a cliff overlooking the city. Jim took a moment to look at the view, the buildings, the cars and took extra care to clamp down on the part of him that wanted so badly to return the the world of lights before turning and following his new companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the first, but it doesn't really feel that way to me, because there's a good mount of exposition in it. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Fun fact, the original working title of this fic was "Sweet Sixteen", meant to be ironic, but I found out that the episode with Jim's 16th birthday is actually called "Bittersweet Sixteen", so I thought it only made sense to call this fic "Unhappy Birthday" to keep the same wordplay going without sounding too similar.
> 
> See you next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a good backlog of chapters so I'm going to try and post a chapter close to once a week for now, thank you to everyone who's read kudo'd and commented, it really makes my day!

Sometime during the walk Jim found himself tiring on his two feet, still feeling unfamiliar with the form after going nearly everywhere on all-fours. Arg noticed he was lagging behind a bit and lifted him, which got a yelp out of Jim. However the looming giant simply placed Jim on his back where he instinctively grabbed at Arg’s fur, feeling secure.

At some point Jim fell asleep, being lulled to unconsciousness by the slow swaying of Arg’s body. When Jim woke up he saw Blinky use some kind of crystal instrument against the wall of the canal. Jim quickly wondered how he had clung to Arg so well in his sleep before he stares in amazement at Blinky creating a doorway out of nothing.

Inside a crystal staircase lights up and Jim can’t help but look at all of the tiny facets and details of his surrounding. However, what he was about to see next wouldn’t even be in the same league as some glowing stairs. As Arg and Blinky reached the bottom Jim was privy to the most beautiful view he had ever seen in his life.

Blinky turned around to gauge Jim’s reaction, liking what he saw he motioned to the city with his hands, “Welcome, little one, to Trollmarket!”

They did some more walking. Jim kept being distracted by all the different sights and sounds but resisted the urge to jump off of his stead’s back in case he got himself lost in the chaos. Blinky would occasionally point to a shop or landmark and explain its purpose but for the most part the trip was uneventful (save the numerous stares Jim got from the other trolls).

Finally they reached the building inside the large orange crystal. Jim shivered as he felt the magical energies buzz all around him. It made him feel relaxed yet giddy all at the same time. It was like waking up and sunbathing after a cold winter night, or like being able to play video games with your best friend after a tough day at school.

“Vendel!” Blinky called out.

An old looking troll appeared from around the corner, “Will you not raise your voice while within the Heartstone? This is a place of calm and — what in the world have you brought into Trollmarket  _ this _ time, Blinkous Galadrigal?”

Arg lowered Jim to the ground, which immediately made him feel vulnerable and out in the open. Vendel walked right up to him, not seeming to care about Jim’s comfort as he towered over him. Jim subconsciously stepped backwards and leaned against Arg’s arm.

“Yes, well, Vendel. We have brought what we believe to be an unsupervised whelp.”

Vendel let a quick breath out his nose before eyeing Arg up and down, “He seems plenty supervised to me.” He joked.

Blinkous looked taken aback, “We found him alone, on the surface, possibly scavenging from a dumpster. He hasn’t spoken a word since we found him.” 

Vendel squinted his eyes and leaned his face even closer to Jim’s, “What is your name?”

Jim didn’t feel particularly motivated to answer any questions coming from the goat man, and the whole not-talking-thing had been working out for him so far.

Blinky put a hand on the older troll’s shoulder, “I believe you are … intimidating him.”

Vendel quickly shoved Blinky’s hand off of him and turned away, muttering something in a language Jim didn’t recognize. Whatever he said made Blinky nervous as he quickly followed Vendel and started responding in the different language, himself. After awhile even Arg joined in, sounding a bit more fluent in what must be their native tounge. 

Seeing that the attention was no longer on him Jim took a look around the room. The walls were entirely made from the orange crystal, it was breathtaking. Before Jim even thought about what he was doing he was hugging the nearest wall and rubbing his face against the Heartstone. He knew that the important conversation that probably pretended to him was still going on behind him, but he couldn’t really care, not when he was getting a face full of good vibes.

“Whelp!” an unfamiliar voice yelled.

Jim jumped up and turned around to see a perplexed Blinky, an amused Arg, a stoic Vendel, and an annoyed blue troll with spikes he hadn’t noticed enter the room.

Blinky shook his head, his four hands resting on his sides, “You don’t understand troll speak, do you?”

Jim slowly shook his head.

The spiky blue troll walked up to Blinky and jabbed a finger into his chest, “I don’t care if I have to pay for it: you are going to Rotgut’s and getting a gaggletack.”

“And I didn’t think it was possible to be more paranoid than Blinkous,” Vendel shook his head, to which the angry one gave him the stink eye, “But I suppose that things have been settled,” He walked back up to Jim, minding his space this time, “For the time being, you shall live with Blinkous and Arg. As it is apparent that you have never been to Trollmarket, I’d like to welcome you on behalf of its denizens.”

Vendel seemed to stare at him for a response, to which Jim simply nodded his head.

The old troll sighed, “Good enough,” he turned back to the other trolls in the room, “Now off with you all, I’m sure you’ve all got more important things to do than bother me.”

* * *

After another trip through the market, in which Jim walked himself, they arrived at a strange door. Blinky quickly switched the conversation to troll speak and after what Jim assumed to be a business transaction the door spat out … 

Jim picked up the object, feeling an energy radiate from it, tickling his hand, “A horse shoe?”

Blinky and Arg flinched in surprise at Jim’s speech before Bliny burst into laughter, “Horses don’t wear  _ shoes _ , little one!” He turned to Arg with a large smile, “We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

Jim just stood there, utterly confused by what was going on around him.

Blinky put a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “You may keep the gaggletack, little one. Consider it a welcome gift!”

Jim nodded and awkwardly held the horseshoe. Jim knew that he had just come out of surviving alone in the woods for awhile but these people were  _ weird _ .

* * *

Toby was never the type to get weirded out from seeing adults in places he didn’t expect. He never thought teachers lived in the school, didn’t think friends’ parents never left the house. He understood from an early age that everyone else had a life to live outside of how you knew them. However seeing Dr. Lake in the grocery store that night was an entirely different experience.

It had been awhile since Toby had seen the doctor in person but he remembered seeing her on the local news channels, pleading people to join the search effort, talking about what a great kid Jim was, and how there’s lots of people waiting for him to come home. Toby had known Dr. L as long as he had known Jim but seeing her on TV and talking about his missing friend kinda made her feel … not real. Toby felt like he didn’t know this person; this woman grabbing a milk carton only to longingly look at the picture of Jim.

“So there’s another one, huh?” a man next to her said, looking at the milk cartons.

“Oh, uhhhh, yes.” Dr. Lake looked startled but also embarrassed.

The man shook his head, “Well, you know what they say about kids who go missing in Arcadia.”

“What?” her voice came out breather, shocked rather than inquisitive.

“They never come back.”

Toby saw red and came out of his hiding place behind the chips to go up to the man and shove a finger in his chest and hiss, “ _ She’s _ that kid’s  _ mom _ , dude! You just said that  _ to … the kid’s … mom _ ! And even if she didn’t know him that’s such a fucked up thing to say!”

“I, uhh …” he grabbed a carton and left so quickly he almost bumped into a woman with a cart turning the corner.

“Thanks, Toby.” Dr. L said appreciatively.

Toby turned around and was face to face with this Dr. L he didn’t know anymore, “Uh, it’s no problem, Dr. L!”

She frowned, “I’m so sorry, Toby. Adults can be so insensitive at times.”

“Yeah,” Toby mumbled, “Kids can be, too.”

Her eyebrows shot up in concern, “Did something happen at —”

“No, no, nothing happened! I’m just saying that being an asshole isn’t an age-restricted thing.”

She chuckled, “Normally I’d scold you for strong language, but in this case strong language might be called for.”

Toby chuckled but the tension reappeared as both parties couldn’t think of what to say next, “You know, Dr. L, Nana says you and Mr. Strickler can always come have dinner with us whenever you’d like.”

She smiled, though Toby couldn’t tell if it was forced or not, “Tell your Nana that I appreciate the offer.” She grabbed a couple of things off the shelves before waving at the teen, “I hope we bump into each other again, Toby.”

Toby’s hand gripped his basket a bit harder as he watched her leave, “Yeah …”

* * *

After the excitement of Jim’s arrival wore off the three trolls fell into a comfortable routine. Jim had his own bedroom, which Blinky had to convert from a crowded storage room. The library in which they lived was crowded with enough books as it was and yet, somehow, Blinky had more hidden away.  Jim had never thought that he would live in a public library, but, well, this was his life now. Luckily the public part was limited to the down stairs. The living space above included a sparse dining room of some sorts, and a large bedroom in which Blinky and Arg resided. Jim was pretty confident that they were troll-married at this point, as surprised as he was about the cultural implications of it.

Blinky had explained to Jim that his job was being the book-keeper, though Jim’s mind often supplied the word librarian. However, librarians didn’t really  _ live _ with their books. Blinky’s job wasn’t just pointing people to the right information and organizing titles. He told Jim that, if it ever were to come to something like an invasion that it was his duty to protect Trollkind’s precious knowledge with his life. Jim didn’t like hearing Blinky talk like this, but he also knew that Blinky’s books meant a lot to him and was beginning to understand that trolls were very purpose-driven. He also learned that the books had a personal, sentimental meaning to Blinky since many were written by his late brother Dictatious.

Jim found that even though he was underground he often knew what time of day it was on the surface. He also found that, even though trolls didn’t seem to sleep for very long and that individuals often slept at different times, there were certain parts of the day that were more active than others. Noon seemed to be the most inactive, with activity picking up when closer to dawn or dusk. Jim found that he needed a little more sleep than his troll companions but they did not seemed bothered by this.

Jim would more often than not fall asleep close to noon and wake up before the sunset. Blinky and Arg would eat breakfast with him at the dining room table. Usually metal scrapes or any odd bits that Blinky and Arg had bought from the market while Jim was still asleep. Jim would never admit it to himself but he had an ever growing fondness of lightbulbs. The satisfying crunch as Jim’s sharp teeth broke through the glass releasing the smoky flavor of the filament was something the boy immensely enjoyed. His caretakers must’ve noticed, considering lightbulbs were often in the rotation for breakfast and lunch. Or maybe lightbulbs were commonly eaten by all trolls, who knows.

Breakfasts were followed by Blinky tutoring Jim in Troll Speak, or at least attempts to. It was apparent that Jim wasn’t going to be speaking much, if at all, no matter what the circumstances, so there were no oral exams. After Jim’s luck with Spanish he was forever grateful for this. Jim knew, at some point, that he would have to start speaking again, but whenever he thought about when that would be a panic would rise up in him. If he started speaking people would start to ask him questions, questions that would make him think about the bad thing.  _ He didn’t want to think about the bad thing _ . So, for the time being, he stayed quiet, and hoped that the happiness would last.

Blinky would tutor Jim, along with the ever present audience of Arg, until nightfall, when they would eat their lunch. Sometimes they would go out to eat, sometimes they stayed in. When they went out there was more variety. Meats and fish of all kinds, minerals Jim had never even heard of. However, Jim’s favorite aspect of it was always the company. After lunch they would often walk the meal off together. Trollmarket had lots of public places, some of which were incredibly beautiful. Parks, crystal gardens, and memorials littered the inner circle of the city. Blinky had explained to him that most of the public buildings, like the library, were constructed closer to the Heartstone than the business or residential districts. Sometimes they would also walk through the busy market, Blinky and Arg either window shopping or purchasing the week’s food and supplies.

After their walk was often when Blinky had his business hours for the library. It was very uncommon for trolls to come for more than a social visit with Arg and Blinky, but the two would make the library available to the public at the time, anyways. Often the troll would use this time to read, even though Jim was sure that he had already read most of the library’s materials. Jim would try to read the books, too, but would get frustrated at his lack of progress towards literacy in Trollish and inability to ask for a translation. Jim, during this time, more or less had the freedom to explore trollmarket himself, under the explicit instructions to come back by dinner. Sometimes Arg would join him, and he would watch the world on the back of the gentle giant, or walk besides him hand on his adoptive father’s side. Sometimes Arg would stay behind at the library and the teen would go places he normally wouldn’t under supervision.

Sometimes Jim would peruse the ever fascinating wares of the market. Other times he would explore less … conventional parts of the underground city. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Jim had always been a climber and being much stronger and made of stone definitely did not deter him from this past time in any way. He can clearly recall the surprised face of Vendal when the old troll had discovered him climbing and perching on the heartstone. Jim often found cliffs and ledges on the cave walls surrounding the city that he would watch the bustle from. He found that sitting down felt different in his new body, that it was much more comfortable for him to fold his legs up, feet flat on the ground, while leaning on his straightened arms. It made him feel much less vulnerable than sitting on his bottom, splayed out. In this gargoyle pose he could go from sitting to standing or walking on all four in a fraction of a second. Crouched on a tall ledge, looking over the city, was how he spent many a night, letting his mind drift and wander without letting it touch any of the places he didn’t want it to.

That was when he first saw the Trollhunter walking along side with the angry spiky one he later learned was the Hunter’s son, Draal the Deadly.  _ More like Draal the Overcompensating _ , Jim would often think when the troll was brought up. He would often find the Troll shit talking with his two equally large, equally obnoxious friends. Kanjigar, on the other hand, Jim found that he could feel nothing but respect for. It also helped that he had trouble taking his eyes off of the magical, gleaming armor. He often saw the Hunter making social calls, checking in with shopkeepers and the like. He was also present when Kanjigar had visited the library to talk with Blinky. Jim could tell the two had a history but he didn’t understand as much as he’d like due to them talking in Troll Speak. 

Late into the night the group would go and eat dinner. They almost always ate out during dinner. Another difference was that sometimes Blinky and Arg would decide to eat at the pub so that they could drink some glub along with their meals. At first Jim was confused as to how he was even allowed to enter the pub, but no one seemed to so much as glance his way. Jim didn’t really have any reason to complain considering that the food was as good as when they went to the restaurants, and he sometimes got to witness more colorful conversation between the two than he usually would.

After they had all had their fill the three would return home. Now Blinky would go over Troll history with Jim, but he always seemed to try to make it much more like story time than a class. Jim would often nod along to show his understanding as he and Arg listened to Blinky spin tales about the days of old. Sometimes Blinky would take so long to conclude a story he would continue reciting as Jim laid in his bed, which was more or less a stone slab connected to the wall littered with bits of cloth and leaves and other bits of soft material the teen could find. Jim would often say goodnight to Blinky and Arg with a hug and good amount of nuzzling, though he tried not to think too much as to why he did so.

Jim was no fool, he knew what he was to the troll couple. They housed him and fed him. They clung to his presence, interested in his every move. Jim often wondered what the two did all day before he had arrived in Trollmarket, they seemed to try and revolve their lives around him. Maybe they were more or less doing the same things before, just without Jim in the picture, but it still made the teen feel guilty. Jim wondered exactly how old the two thought he was. Certain aspects of their routine felt … infantilizing. But Jim, after being alone for so long, ate it all up.

He craved the attention. It felt incredibly validating that he could speak even less than Arg, do almost literally nothing and he was noticed, he was cared for. Jim knew that his not speaking would only be contributing to the trolls’ possible misconception of his age, but he found himself wondering if it was even a misconception worth correcting. He wondered how Blinky and Arg would think of him once they learned just how far along we was developmentally. Jim would often shut these thoughts down soon after.

* * *

Jim was going through Bagdwella’s stocks, looking for a new set of clothes that weren’t ripped up and bloody. Jim had grown much larger in his transformation, though he tried not to think about the implications as he started down at his exposed midriff. Blinky had offered him a small … kilt, but Jim knew he was never going to be comfortable in something like that, or going fully naked like Arg did. Trolls definitely seemed to have a different standard of nudity as he realized there weren’t any male troll who didn’t walk around topless.

His feet had completely grown out of his shoes the night he transformed and they immediately fell off when he made a run for it, his stone skin protecting his soles from any cuts since then. His pants became a lot shorter, the ends riding up to his upper calves. The bottoms have long been muddied and ripped up from Jim’s time in the woods. His t-shirt and favorite blue turtleneck jacket was also in a sad state. So Jim was going through what little fit him that the trolls brought down.

Jim found a stained white t-shirt that fit him easily enough. The worst of the stains would come out in a couple of washes, hopefully. He also found some baggy jeans that were probably made for someone his height, but not necessarily his width as the waistband kept sliding down. A pair of scuffed up sneakers completed the look. Jim’s nose scrunched at the smell. The trolls, while no longer eating human meat, had no qualms with making a meal out of anything infused with bodily fluids, most commonly sweat.

Jim shook his head, finding a secluded corner to change. When he reemerged he noticed a long black piece of fabric in one of the piles and pulled it out. It was a black cloak. Jim eyed the reflection of a TV screen as he threw it over his shoulders and secured the hook and eye. Though there were a few holes and mud stains it didn’t look half bad as he brought the hood up, covering his horns and new ears.

“Human clothes fit you quite well, little one.” Bagdwella emerged from behind her counter, “The cloak is on the house, if you’d like. It’s after halloween so we get enough of that kind of stuff in the garbage this time of year, anyways. Deya forbid humans dress up as the same thing twice. Usually clothes sell like hot cakes but the costume stuff is never worn in and tends to lean on the … synthetic side.”

Jim nodded his thanks and turned to walk out when he noticed the large, spiky, unfriendly troll blocking his way. “What is the meaning of this?” The troll asked as he eyed Jim’s new outfit up and down.

Bagdwella sighed, “The whelp  _ was _ patroning my shop before you so rudely interrupted him.”

He didn’t spare the shopkeep a glance and instead, with two large fingers, pulled at the hem of Jim’s shirt, “Why do you insist on wearing human made cloth?” He leaned down towards Jim’s feet and huffed out his nose, his nose ring momentarily lifting and falling, “And why have you started wearing foot coverings?”

“Doesn’t he look dashing in the cloak?” she pointed out.

“The cloak is the  _ only _ part I understand,” he leaned closely to Jim’s face, “She is right, whelp, human clothing  _ does _ fit you well.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I may not know what you are, but I  _ will _ find out.” He huffed again and abruptly left.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Bagdwella comforted the boy, “Draal likes to secretly deem himself honorary Trollhunter and stomp around the market. His bark is worse than his bite.”

Jim silently nods and walks out the shop, trying to shake his unease.

* * *

It was another night in Trollmarket. Blinky and Arg had decided that it was a pub night, so there they were; Arg and Blinky sharing a mug of the strong smelling green liquid while Jim finished off the leg of an animal he did not feel like inquiring about.

Halfway through the conversation Blinky glanced at Jim before switching to Troll Speak. Jim wasn’t stupid, he knew Blinky would only do this when he was trying to keep Jim from understanding, despite the daily lessons. Jim let it happen; he would be a hypocrite if he didn’t allow others to have their secrets. However, throughout the conversation, Jim kept hearing a word he had recently learned:  _ to change _ but he was also hearing it put together with the morpheme for troll. A change troll … a troll that changes … 

“Changeling?”

Blinky and Arg froze in place, staring at Jim in shock. In fact, Jim could feel the stares of the entire room, “Don’t say that word so loudly!” Blinky hissed.

Jim lowered his voice and leaned across the table, “Changelings are real?”

Blinky sighed, “Yes, little one, they are very real, but not something you should worry about, since they have all been banished to the darklands.”

Arg hummed, “Changelings … all gone.”

_ You know, I think you would make a marvelous changeling _ . Jim’s blood ran cold. No, he didn’t want to have these thoughts.

_ There are still a few more hours left of your birthday and I have another present for you. _

_ A changeling is a magical creature, swapped with the infant of an unsuspecting family who raise it _ .

_ Now, why don’t you finish up your tea and I’ll show it to you? _

Jim shot up from his seat, knocking his cup of water over.  _ The tub, the darkness, the tea. The tub, the darkness, the tea. _

“Jim?” Blinky asked, concern in his voice.

Jim turned and ran out the pub, down an alleyway. He stopped, falling to his knees and doubling over as he threw up on the cobblestone, hyperventilating. Not far behind him he heard the rapid footsteps of his caretakers.

“Jim!” Blinky rushes over and starts rubbing his back, “Are you alright?”

“C-changelings are real,” Jim looked into Blinky’s eyes, “And they’re in Arcadia.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about kids who disappear in Arcadia
> 
> They never come back 🙃


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo, It's kinda been almost a month ... so sorry about that! T.T
> 
> I'm still in love with this fic, so don't worry! I hope you like this chapter as much as I do! ^.^

Jim was where he belonged: in Toby’s bedroom playing video games for way too late under the guise of a sleepover. Jim knew it was kinda ridiculous to insist on sleepovers when the boy simply lived right across the street. His mom knew it was an excuse to horse around late into the night but she would allow it on the weekends.

Jim had won round one of Gun Robot Battle Royale, but he knew there were many more rounds to come. He gave a content sigh as leaned back on his arms, examining the familiar room around him. The evening sun sent orange rays that made the room look cozy and … blurry? Jim tried focusing on the many posters lining Toby’s wall but found that he couldn’t make out more than vague shapes and colors.

“Something wrong, Jimmy?”

The teen’s head whipped around to look at his lifelong friend, “ _ Jimmy _ ?”

“Yeah, that’s your nickname! Jimmy!”

“You’ve never called me Jimmy …” the teen glanced at the television. It looked like Gun Robot, but the color of the characters were all wrong, like it was an imitation. Jim slowly looked back at his friend, trying to figure out why everything felt  _ off _ .

“Toby … what’s going on?” his friend’s face wasn’t right. It  _ literally _ wasn’t right. Toby’s eyes were green, not brown, and his eyes were a bit closer set than … than … 

The imposture’s face blurred and blended into the colors of the background as the ground opened up beneath Jim’s feet and he fell into the void.

Jim woke up, his eyes staring at the simple stone ceiling of his bedroom in Trollmarket. It felt like only minutes ago he had just been inside of not-Toby’s room playing not-Gun Robot with his not-best friend. The experience left him with an unsatisfied and empty feeling. Why couldn’t he have had just a normal, pleasant dream of his good memories? Why did it have to feel so wrong?

Stretching out all of his limbs before sitting up he opened the wooden cover of his window (which was really just a hole in the wall) and looked out. Most trolls had bedrooms with windows facing the Heartstone, and Jim was no exception. He felt more fortunate than ever living so close to the central crystal. The large entity was like a sun in its own right, warming and comforting Jim in a way he didn’t think he could feel again.

While he was resting his head on the ledge and staring at the crystal a knock sounded at his door. Jim continued looking out the window until he felt a presence sit on his nest next to him, “Breakfast.” Blinky offered him a bowl of metal pieces, a usual breakfast. Blinky delivering it to his bedroom, however, was not.

Jim looked down at the bowl before thoughtlessly grabbing one and chewing on it, carefully considering his next words. He swallowed and took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

Blinky, well, blinked in surprise, “Whatever for?”

“For not … talking earlier,” he put the bowl down on the stone slab. He glanced up as Arg walked through the door, instantly looking out of place in the small former storage closet, “I knew that once I started speaking people would ask where I came from and … it hurts for me to think about it, because I know that I can’t go back. And it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to anyone at all so it just felt easier to stay quiet and not think about it.”

Blinky quickly enveloped the teen in a four armed hug, “We knew you had gone through a difficult time, little one, no one could blame you for such a thing,”

Arg came over and easily surrounded Jim and Blinky in his own large stone arms, “Little one safe now.”

When the hug ended the boy looked up at his two caretakers, “My name is Jim, by the way, and, well, as much as I like the nickname I’m not exactly little … age-wise, per say.”

Blinky frowned, his arms still on Jim’s shoulders, “Jim,” he tested the name on his tongue, “How old are you?”

“Well, I’m more of a teenager than a kid.”

Arg sat down next the Jim’s bed, “What teenager?”

Jim cursed in his mind, he forgot teenager was as much a reference to the chronological age than the life stage itself, and he knew that giving his real age probably wouldn’t go down well after realizing how long trolls lived, “I’m a … what’s the word? I’m an adolescent.”

“Adult-less-than?”

“Close, Arg!” Blinky jumped in, ever the teacher, “An adolescent is someone who is in the stage between child and adulthood.”

“Jim not young?” The large troll almost looked sad, which made the teen feel bad for even bringing the topic up.

“No, he  _ is _ young. I believe that Jim is simply trying to say that he is not as young as the moniker implies.”

Arg hummed, “Still call little one?”

Jim smiled at that, “I don’t mind if you guys keep calling me that, it’s more or less the name you gave me. And I  _ am _ little, after all. At least … compared to you guys.”

“Which,” Blinky raised a finger, entering lecture mode, “I suspect is because you haven’t been eating  _ nearly _ enough, but that is going to change!” Blinky took the bowl of metal off the stone slab and foisted it towards the boy, “As long as you live under this roof, you will be starved of nothing!”

Arg frowned at Blinky, “What about Jim home?” He looked at the teen, “Can’t go back?”

Jim wrapped his arms around himself and looked down at his feet, “No,” he almost whispered, “I can’t go back.”

Arg looked confused, “Parents?”

“Arg!” Blinky scolded, before lowering his voice, “This may not be the best time, old friend.”

Jim shook his head, “My father left me when I was really young, I don’t remember much about him. My mom … ” he started shaking, “She wouldn’t even recognize me, even if there was a way for me to go back and seek her out.”

Blinky sighed, his voice came out hushed and careful, “Jim … I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jim looked up from his feet to see his four-armed caretaker with an openly pained expression, “It’s … it’s alright.” Even though it wasn’t, “I like it here in trollmarket, I like it here with you two. I hope … I hope to stay here as long as you’ll keep me.”

Blinky smiled wide, “And we hope to keep you as long as we can before you get annoyed by being around us two old trolls.”

Arg gave Jim a conspiratorial smile, “Blinky … hard to live with.”

Blinky looked at the large troll with mock hurt, “Excuse me, old friend, you’re the one who snores all night!”

Jim threw his head back and laughed. A little later he would realize that it was the first time he had laughed since his birthday.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, things more or less returned to normal. His daily Trollish lessons went by a lot faster now that Jim would actually verbally communicate, but it also lead to the teen being corrected up the ass for his terrible accent. He felt, though, that he could deal with the trade off. As much as Blinky was understanding during Jim’s mute phase, he was ecstatic to try and uncover the hidden conversationalist within the boy. It occasionally made Jim wonder how Blinky and Arg became so close in the first place, but other times he couldn’t help but think that Blinky and Arg would almost look weird and out of place if they weren’t standing right next to one another.

Also, Jim could finally ask  _ questions _ . He had learned a lot about trolls through observation and Blinky’s many one-sided lectures, but there were many things that the other trolls assumed he already knew. Things like how old trolls could live to be (over 5,000 years!), if all trolls lived in Trollmarket (even excluding Gumgums, the answer is no), and why was the Trollhunter called the Trollhunter if he was more of a troll-protector (the answer had to do with Troll to English translation and was not very satisfactory). Blinky had seemed both excited to answer these questions but quietly surprised over the fact that Jim was not aware of the answers already.

Speaking of the Trollhunter, Jim still had a hard time wrapping his mind around such a thing. Trollkind relied on a magical amulet, created by a wizard that no one’s talked to in centuries, in order to basically pick the next Batman. It seemed kinda like an unreliable method to the teen. However, whenever he saw Kanjigar walk through trollmarket in his highly reflective armor Jim couldn’t help but stare, a little starstruck. After all, he was still a sixteen-year-old boy at heart and what young teen would turn down the chance to meet a real life superhero?

It was a shame that he was often being tailed by his ill-tempered son, ruining any chance the teen might have of talking to the Trollhunter alone. Jim hadn’t forgotten how rude Draal was to his now-adoptive father Blinky on the night he entered Trollmarket, along with his recent shopping trip, but he also knew better than to confront the large spiky troll about it. At least, he had thought so before that day in the gardens.

“So,” Draal had approached the family while they were out for a stroll, “When is the whelp going to have his first rite?”

Blinky shrugged, trying to look casual, “Jim is already at the age where he has probably performed his first rite, Draal.”

Jim looked up from a particularly bright cluster, “First rite?”

Blinky stiffened as Draal walked right up to the still crouching Jim, “Ha, figures you wouldn’t have known, not when you have a clumsy book-keeper for a father, and a complete waste of strength, a  _ pacifist _ ,” he spat the word, “for another.”

Jim straightened up, looking the large troll in the eyes, “Well, what’s so bad about that? What Blinky does for Trollmarket is just as important as what anyone else does, and why is it so important for people to want to fight, anyways?”

“Ha!” Draal barked out, “Have you been secluded in that library with Blinkous for so long that you do not realize a war is being fought?”

“What?” Jim took a step back, “But I thought all the Gumgums were trapped after the Battle of Killehead?”

“Most,” Draal moved his face inexcusably close, “But not all.”

Jim felt a shiver down his spine. He had assumed that it was all ancient history. Trollmarket certainly didn’t act like they were currently at war. But if there were really Gumgums left on the surface… 

Draal backed up, placing his hands behind his back, “The first rite is performed by all troll whelps. It is a public sparring match, a whelp’s first one, where they are put up against a parental figure. Since your two fathers are,” he glanced Arg and Blinky up and down, “ _ ineligible _ , I would be more than glad to to take their place,” Draal’s face cracked into a malicious smile, “and  _ see what you’ve got _ .”

At this point, Jim had had enough. It was times like these that really reminded him of Steve. Jim couldn’t really understand what made someone feel like they had the right to stuff people into lockers and shove anyone who tried to tell them otherwise, “You know what, Draal? You’re a bully.”

The troll’s face scrunched together, as if never having heard the word, “What? A bully?”

“You get a kick out of picking on people weaker than you. It’s … sadistic, and gross to watch!”

“And what if I was merely concerned for your personal development?”

“Bulshigal!”

Blinky gasped behind him, “Jim! Language!”

“You  wouldn’t have came here asking about my first rite if you weren’t planning on beating the shit out of me.”

“Beating the ‘shit’ out of someone is what the first rite more or less entails.”

“Stop it! You walk around the place like you can do no wrong, like you’ve already become the Trollhunter, or something, but you’ll never become the Trollhunter!”

Draal’s face dropped in an instant, “What did you just say?”

Jim felt two hands on his shoulders, “Jim, I can’t believe I’m saying this but  _ please, _ by Deya’s Grace, stop talking!”

Jim brushed off Blinky’s hands, “No! The Trollhunter is supposed to protect those who can’t protect themselves. If it came down to it would you even be willing to do that? Would you even want that job?”

Draal bared his teeth in fury, leaning in closer to Jim’s face so that the teen could feel his breath, “How  _ dare _ you try to lecture  _ me _ about what it means to be the Trollhunter! I’ve been training since my  _ birth _ to become the Trollhunter someday, and I expect the same of everyone else. Every troll that refuses to learn the basics of self-defense is putting  _ my father _ at risk through their neglect and laziness. We are at war. No troll, whelp or not, should be exempt from this fact.”

Jim shook his head, “That makes no sense, if there was no one who needed protection then there would be no need to have someone willing to risk their life to protect them. There would be no need for a Trollhunter.”

“Did someone call for me?” Kanjigar asked, walking up to the group.

Everyone froze until Arg commented, “Talking with Jim, first rite.”

“Father!” Draal called out, “I was just offering my services to Blinky and Arg’s little whelp here.”

Kanjigar stood next to the group, expression unreadable as his gaze passed each troll’s face before finally landing on Jim, “I believe this is the first time we’ve spoken, young one, Blinky has told me many things about you.”

Jim looked up at the troll, trying not to get distracted by the supernatural gleaming of his armour, “It’s nice to meet you … Master Kanjigar.” Blinky had warned Jim that most of Trollmarket only referred to Kanjigar as either the Trollhunter or Master Kanjigar due to the respect garnered by his position, Jim was glad to have remembered such a thing on spot.

Draal mumbled to himself, “So  _ now _ the whelp decides to have manners.”

Kanjigar seemed to ignore that comment, “Is it true, Jim, that you have not participated in your first rite?”

“Yes,” Jim answer hesitantly, “It’s true, Master Kanjigar.”

“Then I would like to offer my participation in your parents’ place,” he looked up at Blinky and Arg, “If that is alright?”

Blinky’s face lit up, “Why, it would be an honor for Jim’s first rite to be performed by the Trollhunter!”

Jim’s face screw up in confusion; wasn’t the goal for him  _ not _ to get beat up? Blinky and Arg wanted him to go through his first rite even though they weren’t fighters? Why was Blinky so eagerly putting Jim in a fight against the mighty  _ Trollhunter _ ? Fighting was this guy’s  _ job _ ! And here he thought he had no chance against Draal!

“Well, it is nearing dinner time,” Blinky said, holding his hands together, “We must thank the ever generous Trollhunter and … his son for offering their assistance in Jim’s coming of age ceremony. Preparations will be made at once.”

Kanjigar eyed Draal before giving Blinky a tight smile, “I look forward to it.”

* * *

It was not long after the door to the library was closed that Blinky spoke his mind, “Do you understand what you’ve almost done, whelp?” He never used the clinical and impersonal word to address Jim, but the boy has never made the troll this upset.

Jim tried his best not to cower and hide behind one of Arg’s pole-like arms, “I, uh, signed up to spar with the Trollhunter?”

Blinky folded his two sets of arms and narrowed his eyes, “No, that’s what  _ I _ did, to prevent  _ you _ from being  _ challenged by Draal _ …  _ The Deadly _ !” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “You think he earned that name from picking daisies? No! He earned that name by crushing Gumgums into cement mixer!” he emphasized the supposed Gumgum crushing by punching his two right fists into his palms.

“He could challenge me … even when I’m not an adult?”

Blinky closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing in a somber tone, “Your current age matters not, little one, if Draal had decided your commentary was too dishonoring he could have challenged you on the spot and simply have waited for you to enter adulthood to see the conclusion of it. Do not be mistaken, we have lost young trolls this way.”

Jim felt anger surge through him once more, “Dishonoring to  _ him _ ? What about all the things he said about you two?”

“Jim said right,” Arg pointed out, “Draal bully.”

“Arg, old friend, it does not matter if what Jim said was true or not. What matters is that Jim could’ve lost his life for having said such a thing to a troll who is not known for his …  _ good temperament _ .”

All of the frustration Jim was feeling up to that point rushed out of him so quickly he was left feeling deflated, “I’m so sorry Blinky, I let my anger get the best of me … I let  _ Draal _ get the best of me. It’s just that … even since I’ve been welcomed into troll market he’s been nothing but terrible to you and Arg … and me, I don’t understand it.”

Blinky’s body language relaxed as he approached Jim and put his hands on the teen’s shoulders, “Draal is surprisingly … traditional for his age. He fought at Killehead alongside his father and witnessed Kanjigar being chosen by the amulet. Such experiences have made him especially intense. We all want the war to come to an end, but perhaps no one wants that more than Draal.”

Jim frowned, “So people just let him get away with saying whatever he wants?”

Blinky shook his head, “Jim, Draal will never be able to dishonor Arg and I. Do you know why?”

“Because …” Jim tilted his head to the side, “You have no honor in the first place?”

Arg let out a low and slow guffaw.

“What?! No!” Blinky glared at the larger troll until he stopped laughing and schooled his face back to neutral, “Draal cannot take our honor because we do not give it away to him. We know our place in the community, so do the other trolls, the fact that Draal tries to challenge us on this means little.”

“So, what, it doesn’t matter that he says these things because no one takes him seriously?”

“It’s more or less true, especially among the older trolls.”

“That’s … kinda sad actually.”

Blinky shrugs all four shoulders, “It’s what you get for being, as you might say, a bully.”

Jim looked down at his feet, “Yeah … I guess that’s true.”

“The first rite,” Blinky smiled, “Is as much an evaluation tool as it is a ceremony. Kanjigar is an old friend of mine and Arg’s, we trust him with our lives as well as yours. His son, on the other hand,” Blinky paused, his hand rubbing his chin, “Well, let’s just say we’d rather you avoid him from now on.”

“Blinky, I don’t really want to fight Kanjigar, either. I’ve never even fought before.”

Blinky’s six eyes widened, “Never? Not once in your life? Not even thrown a punch?”

“No, never.”

“Not even rough housed a little?”

“My mom wouldn’t even let me climb up trees,” Jim shook his head, “My mom … my mom was a healer. She would have to treat the injuries of people suffering from various accidents so she always … made sure I wouldn’t be one of the people she had to treat.”

Blinky and Arg looked at one another in surprise at the sudden information. The silence of the moment stretched uncomfortably as Jim looked down at his feet. He really missed his mom, it was the first time he had really thought about her since … his change. It felt both relieving and deafeningly sad to finally talk about her again.

“Your mother,” Blinky said in a somber tone, “Sounds nurturing and caring, if not a little overprotective.”

“Yeah,” Jim gave them a small smile, “She is.”

“You do not have to go through with this ritual, Jim. Having boundaries is perfectly fine. However, we grow fastest when outside our comfort zones. If you do choose to perform your first rite, I can promise you your safety.”

“Little ones … not worry safety. Adults worry safety, parents worry safety.”

“Ah, Arg makes another apt point. It’s unfortunate that Draal has attempted to make you feel less secure in your place here, but just as we would support you if you were to decide to live a life of pacifism, we would also support you if you decided to learn the warrior ways of Trollkind. With the first rite, you can safely get a taste of what that might look like for you.”

“Okay, Blinky,” Jim smiled, “I’ll do it.”

Blinky clapped both sets of hands, “Then preparations will be made!”

“At least I might be able to get an autograph out of this,” Jim mumbled.

Arg tilted his head, “What autograph?”

“Yes, Jim,” Blinky frowned, “What  _ is _ an autograph?”

“Ah … don’t worry about it! Let’s do this first rite thing!”

* * *

Toby was closing the door to his locker when a feminine voice surprised him, “Toby.”

The small teen jumped, revealing the Latina who was behind his locker door, “Claire! You gotta warn a guy!”

She glanced down at the textbook she was holding against her chest as she shuffled her feet, “I’m sorry, I just … I needed to talk to you.”

Toby frowned as he zipped his backpack, “It’s about Jim, isn’t it?”

“I’m worried about him, everyone is. I was hoping —”

The boy’s voice came out low and flat, “Everything I know, I already told the police.”

“Everything?”

He sighed and stood up, looking his classmate in the eye, “ _ Everything _ .” He turned and walked towards the bike rack.

She followed him, “Wait! I need your help! I want to help look for him!”

Toby froze next to his bike, “You don’t even know him.”

She froze, too, “Excuse me?”

Toby shook his head and put his helmet on finally facing her again, “He was in your play for, what, a month? And  _ now _ you care about him? You’re just like everyone else at this school, the moment the news camera come around suddenly  _ everyone’s _ best friends with Jim.”

Claire’s face turned red, “J-just because I didn’t know him for long doesn’t mean I don’t care about him!”

Now, it was Toby’s turn to get mad, “Did you know that he liked you since the 7th grade?” His fists clenched and his teeth grinded together as he faced the girl, “Did you know that his dad left him when he was only 5? The year I moved in across the street? Did you know that he always did all the cooking and laundry because he felt bad for his mom? That he always felt guilty for asking for anything, because he never wanted to be a burden? That he never liked birthdays because that was when his dad left? Did you even know it was his birthday on the night he disappeared?”

Claire all but deflated, “No, I … I didn’t know that. But … in the short amount of time I knew him, I knew he was a good person. I know he would want us to look for him.”

Toby gave off a humorless chuckle, “Then you  _ really _ don’t know him.”

Claire’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Jim always put others before himself, that was his thing. He knew,” Toby gripped the metal frame of his bike and looked to the side, his eyes glassy, “He knew what it was like to wait for someone who’ll never come home.”

She stiffened, “You make it sound like he’s dead.”

Toby narrowed his eyes, his voice choked up, “You and I both know he probably is.”

“No!” Claire shouted, “It’s only been three months, he could still be out there somewhere!”

Toby shook his head while wiping his eyes, “Listen to yourself, Claire. That’s what they said about Blake Greer and Nelly Wright, and it’s been years now. They’re  _ gone _ , Jim’s  _ gone _ . And you may think differently but I know that he would want us to move on with our lives, even if it hurts, because it doesn’t hurt as much as waiting in the long run.”

Claire looked down to the ground and whispered, “You’re wrong. The fact that Jim always put others before himself is  _ exactly _ why we have to look for him.” She took a deep breath then looked Toby in the eye, “I may not know whether or not we can bring him back but … something’s going on in Arcadia. Kids have been disappearing from here without a word since the 80’s, don’t you think we at least owe it to Jim to look into it?”

Toby rolled his eyes, “Sounds like you should talk to Eli.”

Claire extended her hand, “Sounds like  _ we _ should talk to Eli.”

The teen gave her hand a long stare before chuckling, “You know what I just realized? Jim’s an awful hypocrite. If I was the one who was missing, he wouldn’t’ve stopped until he found an answer.” Toby swallowed, “So that’s what I have to do for him … even if he wouldn’t want me to … even if he never comes home.” Toby shook Claire’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww, dang! Jim and Kanjigar are gonna fight, and Toby and Claire have teamed up to find Jim!
> 
> THIS can't go wrong 🙃


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Y'all, this one's a shorter chapter (but a really cute one) so I hope you like it!!

The teen’s alarm blared out at six. Jim immediately hit it and stretched with a smile, feeling the sunlight warm his face. Today was going to be a good day.

“How’s my birthday boy?” His mom asked as she came in with a food tray. She sat on the foot of his bed, her red hair pulled back in a low bun and her almost unnaturally blue eyes shining, just as Jim remembered, “I made you pancakes!”

Jim smiled, picking up the fork and knife, “Thanks mom!” He took a bite and it was … delicious! He didn’t know pancakes could taste  _ this _ good! “Mom! What in the world did you do?”

“Oh no!” She put her hands to her cheeks in dread, “Are they really that bad?”

Jim waved his hands, “No, no! They’re amazing! I was just surprised, is all!”

She chuckled lightly, ruffling his hair, “Anything for your birthday, Champ.”

As she pulled her right hand back her gold wedding band sparkled in the morning light. Jim frowned, were she and Walt fighting or something? Actually, when had Jim’s bed been up against the right wall, and his desk the left?

His mother leaned closer, “Anything else you want to do for your birthday?”

Jim shook his head, trying to rid himself of his rising dread, “Not really.”

She inched just a bit closer, “But,  _ honey _ , we can do absolutely  _ anything _ you want, you just have to name it!”

Jim sighed, “Thanks, but … you know I’m not super into this birthday stuff, right?”

All emotion drained from her face as her head tilted to the side, “Who … who would not want to celebrate the day of their birth?”

Jim shivered, this was just like when he was with Toby. He started looking all around him. It was his room, almost exactly like it, but everything was mirrored, he realized as he spotted the backwards text on his posters and on the spines of his books, “You’re - you’re not my mom! This isn’t my room.” He looked down at his hands, fleshy and pink, “What … what’s happening to me?”

His not-mom practically crawled over him, putting her face right next to him, eyes changing color, “This is a dream, and you’re  _ supposed _ to be enjoying it!”

Jim opened his eyes and saw the stone ceiling of his bedroom in Trollmarket. It took awhile to realize he was hyperventilating. It took him even longer to realize that he wasn’t alone.

“B-Blinky.”

The troll took that as permission to come to the teen’s bedside, “Jim! Are you alright?”

Jim sat up and attempted to control his breathing, “It was … just a bad dream.”

Blinky rested his hands on his charge’s shoulder, “Was it about your first rite? Do you want to cancel it?”

“What?” Jim narrowed his eyes at him, “No! It was … about something else.” The teen looked now at his lap, “I … was in my old room, it looked just like it, but … wasn’t. And then my mom came in and she looked  _ just  _ like my mom, but it wasn’t her. It was an … imitation. And then her voice changed and —”

_ My champion …  _

“It was the same voice I heard when …”

Blinky’s voice lowered, “When what?”

Jim closed his eyes and shook his head, “It was like the dream was trying to get rid of the ‘bad’ things about her, too. But … it’s the bad things that made her an actual  _ person _ . That’s how I  _ really _ want to remember my mom. Not … like this.”

Blinky smiled sadly, “Then why don’t you tell me what she was really like?”

Jim chuckled, “Well, for one thing, she was a  _ terrible _ cook. She’d burn just about every piece of food you’d give her. And she would work really long hours, sometimes I wouldn’t get to see her for days. But that just made the moments we  _ could _ spend time together all the better. I don’t remember much of my dad but I  _ do _ remember how much he hurt her when he left. She would cry all the time, and then pretend that she wasn’t whenever she noticed me. She would tell me that everything was okay, even when her voice was scratchy from sobbing. That’s when I knew that even though I didn’t really care that my dad left me, I could never forgive him for hurting my mom.  _ Never _ .”

“It seems,” Blinky squeezed his shoulders, “That you two loved each other very much.”

Jim smiled, “I remember you saying she sounded a little over-protective. Sometimes,  _ I _ felt like the protective one. For so long it was just me and her … all we had were each other.”

Blinky pulled him into a hug, “I know I have said it before but I am sorry for your lose.”

Jim sighed in his adoptive father’s hold, nuzzling the troll’s shoulder, “It’s alright.”

Blinky pulled him back with his four arms before smiling, “Today, young Jim, is your first rite! It is supposed to be a joyous occasion!”

The teen smiled and rolled his eyes, “Now where have I heard  _ that _ before?”

* * *

Jim had been to the Hero’s Forge very few times, he was always afraid of interrupting some sort of event. Today he  _ was _ the event.

Jim looked out from behind the bars to his entrance, “What are all these people here for?”

Arg smiled wide, “Here for  _ Jim _ !”

Jim looked back at his two guardians with worry, “They’re all here to watch me fight the Trollhunter?”

“Not  _ fight _ ,” Blinky said sternly, “They are here to watch you  _ spar with _ the Trollhunter.”

Jim took a deep breath, “Alright, I’m ready.”

Arg shook his head, “Choose weapon first,” he motioned to the weapon rack against the wall.

Blinky nodded, “Make sure to pick a weapon that suits your size, little one!”

Jim looked over the many types of weapons. From axes to maces to swords, and many other contraptions that Jim did not know the names of, “What weapon will Kanjigar be using?”

Blinky chuckled, “Why, he’ll be using Daylight, of course.”

Jim turned back to Blinky and Arg, “He’ll … be wielding actual sunlight?”

Arg patted Jim’s head, “Sword  _ called _ Daylight.”

“Precisely! Every Trollhunter has wielded the legendary blade!”

“Why have I never seen Kanjigar with it?”

“Just because you may not have seen Daylight in his hand does not mean he is ever without it. The sword can be conjured at anytime from the amulet.”

“What?!” Jim exclaimed, “He can just … make a legendary sword appear out of thin air?”

Blinky laughed, “And armor! It’s all connected to the amulet and is passed down to the next Trollhunter.”

“How …” Jim paused as he tried to wrap is mind around it, “How does an  _ amulet _ hold an entire suit of armor and a sword? How does that even work?”

Blinky cheerfully shrugged, “None of us have the foggiest of a clue! The amulet was made by a powerful wizard, Merlin, a long, long time ago. In order to protect Trollkind from those … under the wrong influence. It holds great magics that we could only ever dream of.”

_ Great _ . So now Jim was going up against an experienced Troll warrior that could conjure magical armor and a sword using an amulet of untold power, just  _ great _ . Jim sighed looking over the weapons again before deciding on the smallest blade in the collection and swinging it around for good measure, “I think I’ll take this sword.”

“That is not a sword, Jim, it is a dagger.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Whatever you call it, I’ll take it.”

Blinky nodded, “Very well,” The gate began to roll up and Blinky started pushing him through the opening, “I believe that is your cue!”

Jim dug his heels in, “Wait, wait! What do I do?!”

Blinky gave him one final push before yelling, “You’ll figure it out!”

Arg waved at him through the already closing gate, “Good luck!”

Jim turned around to see the Trollhunter confidently walk towards the center of the arena as Vendel’s voice boomed, “The Hero’s Forge welcome our honorable and mighty Trollhunter, Master Kanjigar the Courageous!”

Kanjigar’s armor practically glittered in the dancing light of the torches as he stopped at the edge of the inner circle marked on the ground and raised his hand in the air, summoning a large blade in a burst of light. The crowd roared in response.

“ _ That _ ,” Jim mumbled to himself as he, too, walked towards the inner circle, “Is  _ so _ unfair.”

As Jim stepped on the line across from his opponent Vendel’s voice echoed over the area once more, “The Hero’s Forge would also like to welcome  _ Jim _ , son of Aarghaumont, and son of Blinkous. May the match  _ begin _ .”

Kanjigar smiled at the boy, “I would tell you not to be afraid, little one, but one should always be afraid. That is my advice for you before we begin.”

Jim’s eyebrows drew together, “Um … okay, thank — AH!” Jim yelped as he barely held his blade up in time to parry Kanjigar’s strike, Daylight so close Jim could see his trollish reflection in its blade.

Jim tried his best to parry Kanjigar’s attacks but he could tell that he was losing ground quickly. The teen tried to focus on defending himself while also looking for openings but quickly found that Kanjigar, while he was probably being much slower in his technique for the boy’s first rite was no less pristine about covering his movements. Maybe if Jim disarmed him?

The teen, during a parry, tried his best to knee the wrist of the Trollhunter … only for Kanjigar to not only fail to drop his weapon but pretty easily trip up Jim’s other foot, making him fall on his bottom and losing grip of his own weapon.

Jim swore under his breath as he rolled away to the side on Kanjigar’s downward swing only to realize that he had also dodged away from his own blade. He quickly gave himself more distance to think over his next move. Kanjigar stood in place, purposely blocking Jim’s path to the fallen blade.

_ Think, Jim, think! _ Some trolls, like Arg, were quadrupeds, despite have fully developed hands. Other trolls were strictly bipedal, like Blinky. The rest were more or less hybrids switching between the two when needed, like Jim did from time to time. Kanjigar, though he had short legs, seemed to stick to being bipedal, and though his legs were relatively short, he was possibly big enough for what Jim was planning. This could work.  _ This could work! _

Jim came at Kanjigar as quickly as he could, causing worried murderers throughout the audience as he did so. And just as Kanjigar lifted his blade to strike again Jim dropped down onto his side using his momentum to slide right underneath the troll and grab his own blade from the ground as he got up on the other side.

The crowd cheered at the turn of events and Jim knew, this time, that they were cheering for him and turned back to Kanjigar, a smile plastered on his face … before he realized that he had yet to move out of the Trollhunter’s range and was being hit over the head with Daylight’s blunt side. Jim fell to the ground with a yelp, clutching his head. When he looked up the tip of Daylight was inches from his eyes.

“Have you already forgotten what I had told you?” the Trollhunter asked as he loomed over Jim.

The teen looked helplessly up at the man holding the blade, “What did you tell me?”

Kanjigar moved the sword away from Jim’s face, “ _ Always _ be afraid.”

“Oh …” he muttered as realization dawned on him.

The armored troll offered him a hand up, which Jim gladly accepted. Shortly after Kanjigar raised their joined hands to the audience, who cheered, for whom, Jim didn’t really know, but he found that he didn’t care at this point. The Trollhunter lead him to the entrance Jim had walked in through, the entrance where Blinky and Arg were waiting for him.

“Jim!” Blinky welcomed him with a hug, “You were wonderful!”

The boy looked up at him confused, “I was?”

Arg nodded, “Jim good fighter.”

“But I … but I  _ lost _ .”

Blinky let go of the boy, an amused smile on his face, “You were never supposed to  _ win _ , little one. In fact, the first rite is more or less designed to be unwinnable. It is merely an initial evaluation.”

Kanjigar stepped up to Jim, “Blinky informed me that this was the first time you have ever fought.”

“It was.”

He nodded, “Then you possess some real potential, Jim.”

The teen tried to will away the flush he could feel starting in his cheeks, “T-thank you … for everything, Master Kanjigar.”

“You should keep the dagger, if not to use it than as a remembrance. Though I  _ do _ hope that you may use it again sometime soon.”

Jim frowned, “Why … why would you hope for that?”

“Because I would like to offer you lessons.”

The teen’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “But you’re … you’re the Trollhunter! Aren’t you busy? Wouldn’t you have better things to do with your time than trying to train some random whelp?”

Kanjigar sighed and kneeled, bringing him closer to Jim’s eye level, “You are not some  _ random whelp _ , Jim. You are Blinky’s and Arg’s son, both trolls I deeply admire. And even if they had not decided to take you in, you would still be a denizen of Trollmarket, of which it is my duty to protect.”

 

“I …” Jim looked down at the blade in his hands before looking back up at the troll, “I would be honored to have lessons with you, Trollhunter.”

* * *

“This is a stupid idea,” Toby crossed his arms and muttered.

“Comon’ TP, don’t be like that, we have to start  _ somewhere _ .” Claire reasoned as she rang the doorbell.

“TP?”

She smiled at him, “Yeah! Toby Pie!”

He pointed a finger at her, “That is  _ not _ catching on!”

She rolled her eyes, “It already is.”

The door opened revealing a tall, slender woman with black hair and a bright smile, “Why, hello there! Are you friends of Eli?”

The Latina waved and returned the smile, “Hi again, Mrs. Pepperjack! It’s me, Claire Nunez? I was in the play with Eli? Is he home right now?”

“Oh, of course! How could I forget?” She leaned away from the door and shouted with a volume you didn’t think could come from someone so petite, “Eli! Your play buddies are here to see you!”

“Mooooommm!” a voice answered from somewhere in the house, “The play ended a month ago!”

“Eli Lesley Pepperjack! Your friends have come all this way to see you so you are going to see them!”

There was a continuous whine before an answer, “Fine!” The two teens on the doorstep exchanged glances as they heard footsteps going down the stairs, “Claire? … Toby?! What are you two doing here?”

His mother coughed next to him, “Eli … would you like to greet our guests more politely?”

“Oh! Uh … sorry, guys! Mom, can you give us some space?” Eli stepped out of the threshold, closing the front door behind him, “So sorry guys! For a moment there I thought it was going to be Steve! I wasn’t expecting you guys at all!”

Toby looked uncomfortable, “Hey … Eli.”

Eli just gave him one of his indiscriminate smiles, “Hi, Toby!”

Claire cleared her throat, “Eli, not that we don’t appreciate it, but we didn’t come here to just say hi.”

“Yeeeaaah,” Eli looked down, “No one does.”

“We,” the girl glanced at TP before continuing, “We want to know what  _ you _ know.”

“Huh? About what?”

Toby narrowed his eyes, “We want you to know that we know that you know about what there is to know. You  _ know _ ?”

Eli looked taken aback, “I - I don’t know what I know that is what you want to know!”

Claire threw her head back and groaned, “We what to know about the  _ weird _ stuff, Eli! We’re trying to figure out what happened to Jim.”

Toby put up his hands, “Whoa, whoa, way to go straight for the jugular on that one,  _ Claire _ .”

She crossed her arms, “It’s not like he hasn’t been dying to have someone to share this stuff with,  _ TP _ .”

“This …” Eli whispered, “This is  _ actually happening _ ! Finally! I’m being recognized as the expert here!”

Claire grinned at Toby, “Told you.”

The boy crossed his arms and muttered, “This is what I was afraid of …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to have reached over 1,000 hits recently on this fic and I just wanted to thank all of you for being such a lovely fandom to write for! Here's to some more Trollhunters!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to my readers for my delay in posting. I was in a part-time job that was more or less sucking the life from me, but I am here to re-dedicate myself. All worship Hybrid Jim fanfics
> 
> Also, TRIGGER WARNING: for an uncomfortable interaction between a much older person to a younger person and the speculation of pedophilia having occurred discussed by two characters. Nothing lengthy or detailed but I wish to be considerate.

This, out of all the places in Arcadia, was possibly Jim’s favorite. From the vantage point you could see all the way across the valley to the opposite mountain range, allowing the sun to set on a jagged horizon. Soon after the sun would set you could see all of the street lamps flicker in the small town of Arcadia Oaks, the lights of the city twinkling like the stars above. Sure, the place was a good hike up but it was well worth it for the front row seats on the only bench and a warm head leaning against your shoulder.

The head leaned away and turned to the boy, “Jim, that was beautiful.”

The teen looked into her big, brown eyes, “ _ You’re _ beautiful.”

She covered her mouth as she giggled and playfully slapped his arm, “Stop that! How did you even  _ find _ this place?”

He threw an arm over her shoulders and grinned, “I have my ways.”

“Well, I think this place is pretty amazing,” She turned towards him and leaned closer, “I think  _ you’re _ pretty amazing.”

Jim’s breath hitched as he watched Claire close her eyes. He closed his eyes, too, and their lips somehow found each other, “Wow.” Was all the boy had in response when they pulled away.

Claire’s hands snaked up to his face, firm yet cold to the touch, “Imagine it, Jim, you could have all of this back!”

“Huh?” Jim’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Haven’t I always had this?”

She shook her head, “No,” she moved her hands down to grab his wrists, “Not anymore.”

Jim looked down and saw his pink flesh turn to blue stone, spreading from where her cold grip touched him. When she let go of him Jim reached for his head, feeling his horns. He looked at Claire, wait, no, NotClaire with panic in his eyes as he scrambled to the end of the bench.

Her voice become disturbingly lower as she giggled and stood up from the bench, looming over Jim and staring into his soul with her black and yellow eyes, “I could help you get it all back, you know. I could give you a human form … you could continue your previous life.”

Jim tried to look at anything but those piercing eyes as she spoke. Finally he noticed the sky above them; it had no stars. When he looked down into the valley the once alive city was absolutely devoid of light, as if not a single soul lived there. The world around him was completely black and empty, like the void, like the  _ darkness _ .

The tub.

The darkness.

The tea.

The tub.

The darkness.

The tea.

NotClaire started running her fingers through his hair, in between his horns, “All I require of  _ you _ , Jim, is to free me.”

“Who … who are you?”

“I go by many names, little one,” she smiled sweetly, “But  _ you _ may call me Morgana.”

* * *

“Wow! I’ve never had anyone in my room before! This is amazing!”

Toby leaned against the door frame, “Um, that’s great and all, Eli, but can get back to business?”

“Oh! Right!” Eli walked up to a wall covered by a curtain and rolled it to the side revealing a cork board covered in photos, notes, and different colored twine, “Behold! The secrets of Arcadia!”

Claire stepped closer, eyes narrowing, “Wizards, aliens and … creeps?”

“You know!” Eli supplied, “Night crawlers, stone creatures,  _ shapeshifters _ .”

Toby look less than amused, “Yeah, a-huh, sure, shapeshifters.”

Claire turned back to the two boys, “Eli do you think Jim’s disappearance has to do with all this?”

Toby rolled his eyes and muttered, “ _ Of course _ he does.”

Eli stood straighter as he looked her in the eye, “Not just Jim’s but Nelly’s and Blake’s, too. The adults nowadays joke that Arcadia is cursed, but this all goes much further back. It’s true that Arcadia Oaks has more disappearances per capita than anywhere else in the states but the disappearances have been happening since the 1800’s.” Eli pointed to old newspaper clippings near the ‘CREEPS’ note, “And it all started at a specific date, too. It wasn’t gradual. At the beginning of the settlement of Arcadia Valley, what the town used to be called, people were simply going about their business; people died, sure, but at least their bodies were found. After  _ that day _ multiple people went missing, and it just kept on happening. A single disappearance hasn’t been solved since, and the body count is adding up.”

Eli sighed, “I know people think I’m crazy … I know  _ you guys _ probably think I’m crazy, too.”

Claire chuckled nervously as she rubbed her arm, “Whhaaaattt? We don’t … think you’re  _ crazy _ .”

Eli’s face became serious, “But that doesn’t matter to me, not anymore. I may be wrong about what exactly is out there, but I do know that people don’t just  _ vanish _ . I may not know what exactly is happening but I now it’s  _ something _ . And even if you two disagree with me I’m glad someone else is trying to look into it. I hope you guys find what you’re looking for.”

* * *

The hero’s forge looked different the second time Jim walked into it. For one thing, the seats were all empty, but now that Jim wasn’t high off of adrenaline he could finally appreciate the scenery. In the middle of the stadium seating there was an observation box in the middle, Jim remembers seeing Vendel there as he announced the match. The seating started pretty high up, the statues of the last Trollhunters standing directly below.

“Are you ready for our next lesson, little one?” the Trollhunter broke through Jim’s musings.

Jim took a deep breath, “As ready as I’ll ever be, Master Kanjigar.”

“You do not sound confident, Jim.”

The teen gave a small smile, “You’re the one who told me to always be afraid.”

“Ha!” The armored Troll have a loud, genuine laugh, “It’s good to see you’ve already taken lesson one to heart! That means, today, we may move on to lesson two.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that might be.”

Kanjigar chuckled as he walked towards a switch on the wall, “A promising student, indeed.”

He hit the switch and immediately the ground moved underneath Jim, making him yelp and fall on his bottom. He didn’t have much time to sit, however, when the ground tilted, throwing him off.

“ _ This _ is lesson two, little one! Use your environment to your advantage.”

Jim screamed as he fell, trying to find purchase on any bit of land he could get his hands on. Finally he landed on a still mostly flat platform. As he finally pulled himself up he spotted Kanjigar jumping up onto the platform with him. By now the platform was diagonal, giving Kanjigar the higher ground as he raised his blade. Jim swore as he dodged forward, past Kanjigar with a roll, grabbing the upper ledge. The platform was rotating fast enough that by the time Jim situated himself on the ledge it was too steep for Kanjigar to stand on and he jumped off. The platform was soon vertical, giving Jim the extra height he needed to jump to the next platform, and then the next.

“Good! You’re learning!” Jim heard his tutor shout from somewhere in the arena as he made it to the stationary center platform. In the middle Jim saw a strange, angry looking totem in the middle that he hadn’t seen before. As Jim was staring at the artifact he heard the wind whoosh behind him and immediately ran to the opposite end, nearly avoiding Daylight’s edge as he evaded behind the totem. Jim was glad that he found a sheath for his sword in the market before coming to his lesson, with all the climbing he had yet to actually take it out. Jim knew that staying on the small, elevated platform with the Trollhunter wasn’t a good idea. He saw a vertical wooden beam swing close to him and took his chances.

He caught the beam and slid down it, fireman style, very grateful that it was harder to get splinters with stone skin. As he got lower and the swing momentum got stronger he realized that he was actually sliding down a giant, swinging blade. As it reached the lowest point of its swing Jim jumped to the ground, narrowly avoiding another blade, “This place is a death trap!”

“It’s called the  _ Hero’s _ Forge,” the Trollhunter called out as he made his way down by hopping the platforms, “Not the Quitter’s Forge.”

Jim couldn’t help the quick growl that escaped his throat before he shook his head. He couldn’t let himself get irritated.  _ Be afraid, be afraid, be afraid _ . Jim looked around, planning his next step.

Kanjigar finally made it to the ground, effortlessly side stepping any and all of the swinging blades, “Jim … did I  _ say _ you could hide?” He scanned the area, “Be careful, now, whelp, we wouldn’t want you pinching your hand on any moving parts, now would we?”

Jim rolled his eyes but didn’t budge from his hiding place in the swinging blade knook, his arms and legs outstretched to make sure he was above the path of the blade. He knew the Trollhunter was trying to taunt him, trying to get him to reveal his position. He wasn’t going to fall for it this time. Through the crack he could see Kanjigar making his way over, looking in all directions. If he timed this juuuusssst right. Jim jumped onto the blade as it swung into its home.

Kanjigar side stepped another blade, not bothering to look in the direction it came from until the last moment when the flat end of Jim’s blade hit him in the face, stunning him for a moment.

Jim immediately jumped down to his side, “I’m so sorry Master Kanjigar! I didn’t mean to hit you in the face!”

“No, it’s quite alright,” he moved to the wall, hitting the switch to deactivate the Forge before walking back to the teen, “You were just participating in the lesson. And you did … quite well, I must say. Much better than I expected.”

Jim tried to will away the rising heat in his cheeks, “Um, well, not sure how much of a compliment that is considering I don’t know how high your expectations were to start with …”

The Trollhunter huffed, “You are a surprisingly witty one, Jim. It’s no wonder Blinky has taken a shining to you. Now, getting a hit in is well worth a break, come walk with me.”

Jim, though a bit startled by the sudden suggestion, quickly caught up to the armoured troll. Once they hit the streets of the busy market Jim’s sight wondered between all the wares and interactions of the other trolls, while Kanjigar’s forward stare was as stoic as ever.

“Um … Master Kanjigar?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“Are you sure Blinky and Arg are alright with these lessons?”

Kanjigar, for the first time, moved his eyes to Jim, “Is there a reason they would not be?”

“It kinda seems like activities like these are exactly what Blinky wouldn’t want me participating in, you know, because of, like, safety issues?”

The Trollhunter chuckled, “You might be surprised, little one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blinkous may not seem like he is familiar with the battlefield but he has served as the trainer for multiple Trollhunters. If I had not offered you lessons, he may have simply chosen to train you himself.”

“He’s never mentioned that to me.”

“It is somewhat of a sore spot for him now.”

Jim put that information away for later, “Did he ever train  _ you _ ?”

Kanjigar sighed, “Not exactly. By the time I was chosen to wield the amulet Blinky and I already saw each other as equals of a sort.  _ Advisor _ may be a better title for his role in my coming into the position of Trollhunter.”

Jim nodded, “He definitely likes giving advice.”

The troll chuckled, “I’ve known him centuries now and I can assure you the truth of that statement.”

The two continued walking for a little while more, Jim occasionally glancing at the amulet on the troll’s armour.

“So … does that thing ever come off?”

“Does what come off?”

“The amulet.”

“It does, however, I rarely choose to do so.”

“Why is that?”

“A Trollhunter must be ready at a moment’s notice to act. Keeping the armour activated also prevents possible theft.”

Jim’s heart skipped a beat, “Theft?”

Kanjigar paused before continuing, “There are those who would steal the amulet for their own ends. I may be the Trollhunter but I’m also just a single troll. The amulet, within itself, holds the entire future of Trollhunters and, by association, the future of all Trollkind. The amulet, though a grim thought, is worth more than my life, so I must protect it above all else.”

“Oh,” Jim replied numbly, “Um, sorry if this is sacrilege or something but … isn’t it a bit of a gamble to rely on an artifact people don’t really understand to chose the next defender against evil and all that?”

“Jim, the amulet  _ never _ makes a mistake in choosing its Trollhunters. Any troll who believes so is a fool, or,” He sighed, “Or Blinkous.”

Jim’s eyebrows furrowed, “Did … something happen between Blinky and a Trollhunter?”

“That, little one, is another story, for another time.”

* * *

It was dark by the time the duo left Eli’s house, the skinny boy waving to them through the window as they crossed the street.

Toby’s arms had yet to uncross, “Well,  _ that _ was a waste of time.”

Claire tsked, “No it wasn’t, Toby! Didn’t  _ anything _ Eli told us speak to you?”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear anything over all the  _ shapeshifters, night crawlers, and aliens, oh my _ !”

She shook her head, “People have been disappearing from Arcadia Oaks since, well, since it was Arcadia Oaks! Doesn’t that sound …  _ fishy _ to you? Isn’t there  _ anything _ about this that sets off red flags for you?”

He sighed as they stopped beneath the street lamp, “I have no way of knowing if  _ anything _ he says is true but … if you  _ really _ wanna go down this rabbit hole,” he looked around before continuing, “ … I’ve never trusted Mr. Strickler.”

Claire paused, surprised, “What? Why is that?”

“He’s always … well,” Toby tried to figure out the best way to say it, “He’s always seemed more interested in Jim than his mom.”

Claire’s breath stilled, “You don’t mean …”

Toby shook his head, “We can’t know for sure. Even if he  _ was _ taking advantage of Jim, I know Jim wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t want anyone else to get involved.”

Claire nodded, “He was the last person to see Jim, wasn’t he?”

“ _ Claire _ ?” the teen said with apprehension, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m  _ thinking _ ,” she smiled, “that we know what step two is.”

“Claire! Nothing, I mean  _ nothing _ ,” Toby waved his hands around, “Will go well for us if we look into Mr. Strickler. At worst he’s a murderous pedophile or … some sort of spy or supernatural thing and  _ we’ll _ disappear, too! At best he’s a grieving step-father that we’ll be interrogating!”

The girl shrugged, “Who says we’ll be directly interacting with him?”

“ _ Claaaaiiirrreee _ ,” he whined.

She flinched and whispered, “Toby, did you hear that?”

Toby looked across the street at a delivery truck parked outside Eli’s home. In the darkness he heard grumbling and saw four shadows moving across the street. Toby opened his mouth to yelp but was dragged into the bushes by Claire who put her hand over his mouth. The two teens watched as one of the small creatures jumped into the opened back of the truck. In the light of Eli’s front porch they could see that the creatures were definitely green and  _ definitely _ nothing they had ever seen before. One of them threw a package out while the others cheered but before they could make off with it the truck started up again, trapping one of them inside the back. The other three ran after the truck, package forgotten.

Claire remembered to breath before whispering to her partner, “Did you see that?”

“What else would I have been  _ looking at _ , Claire?!”

“Do you think Eli saw?”

“Who cares what Eli sees or doesn’t see? He’s still an unreliable source! I’m still half-convinced they might’ve been some rare morph of racoons!”

“Racoons don’t  _ talk _ .”

“Yeah, neither do  _ those things _ .”

“Sounded like talking to me.”

“You’re crazy! It’s no wonder you got along so well with Eli! I’m starting to think this whole thing was a very, very bad idea!”

“Fine. Even if they weren’t talking, you won’t be able to find a racoon that can make a noise anywhere  _ close _ to ‘Waka Chaka’.”

“Waka Chaka?”

Claire stood up from the bushes, “Why are we still whispering? They’re gone.” She started to walk toward the forgotten package.

“Claire!” he tried to whisper-shout, refusing to leave the security of the bushes, “What are you doing?”

She smiled as she picked up the package, “Initiating step two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELI! THE DEFENDER OF TRUTH!
> 
> Also I like writing Kanjigar as a little sassy, we hardly get to see him in the show and most of his screentime is dedicated to admonishing Jim and his stilted and strained relationship with Draal without much resolution, which ... doesn't always make for the most endearing or notable character. Which is why there needs to be more Alive!Kanjigar fics. If you have them I WILL READ THEM.
> 
> Anyways, Toby and Claire are gonna get in trouble and maybe Jim will do a little dumpster diving, who knows? (I do, the next chapter's already written, so see you next time)


	7. Chapter 7

“You know, you might get somewhere faster if you talk to her instead of just staring.” Toby muttered to his hopelessly crushing friend.

Jim rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the advise, Tobes. Talking to her had never even crossed my mind.”

The boy raised his hands in defense, “I’m just trying to help!”

He sighed, “Even if I went up to her, what would I even say?”

“Ask her about the play! She was in all of the plays and musicals last year, she’s probably auditioning for this one.”

“That might —”

“Mr. Lake!” Mr. Strickler’s voice interrupted the two teens’ conversation, “Would you like to share with the class which tactics you would choose?”

“Uh … the winning ones?” The class laughed.

“Amusing, Jim, but you must try harder than that,” Mr. Strickler smacked his hand onto the blackboard displaying a strange arrangement of multiple alphabets and diagrams of a staff, “If you wish to be with your loved ones again.”

With a start Jim looked around. Toby’s seat was suddenly vacant, so was Claire’s, and so, Jim realized with a start, was the entire class save himself, “ … Morgana?”

The man gave a soft smile as he sat down on top of the instructor desk and crossed his legs, “Very astute, Young Atlas, there is hope for you yet.”

Jim stood up and rested his hands on his own desk, leaning forward, “I’m not sure what’s creepier; the fact that you chose Strickler this time, or that you actually got a nickname right.”

Strickler - no - Morgana tilted her head, “This is creepy to you?”

Jim narrowed his eyes, “You weren’t going for creepy?”

She shook her head, “No, I was hoping that by speaking through your loved ones I could help put you at ease.”

Jim crossed his arms, “ _ Loved one _ is a little strong for Strickler …”

The teacher shrugged, “Even so.”

The teen narrowed his eyes, “Why don’t you show me what you  _ really _ look like?”

She chuckled as Strickler’s entire form was swallowed by golden light. Before anything else became clear a pair of glowing green eyes met Jim’s. The light faded and started warping into a complete yet slim suit of armour, looking very out of place in the modern classroom. The rest of her features soon developed, her skin pale sallow, her figure tall and slender, “Like what you see?”

Jim shivered and grimaced.

“Perhaps the helmet is a little too much, no?” She took it off and it faded out of existence. Jim couldn’t really tell how old she was, but her skin was without wrinkles or blemishes. Her dark hair was long and shiny as it flowed behind her without the aid of wind in the draftless classroom. Her jaw was angular, her chin ending in a sharp point, her nose long, thin, and straight. She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was bathed in golden light, but somehow there was no warmth in her appearance.

Jim looked down at his arms, still made of flesh before looking back up at the sorceress, “Now make  _ me _ how I really look.”

She frowned, “Why would you want that? You clearly like your human appearance.”

“I asked you to.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “I do hope you won’t be as demanding in the future.”

Jim watched as his body changed. He didn’t physically feel anything but he had trouble not imagining darkness enveloping him as he transformed before his own eyes. He shook his head, trying to push down the memory. When it was over he looked down at his hands again, “Why?”

“What do you mean  _ why _ ?”

“Why did you … or Strickler, or both of you … why was I changed?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Morgana rose from the desk, straightening but never really touching the ground as she hovered toward Jim, “Your father loves you. He did this because that’s what was best for you.”

Jim grumbled, “He’s not my father.”

She smiled coldly, “He’s the closest you’ve ever had to one.” She rested her hands on Jim’s cheeks and leaned closer, “Humans are weak … and short-lived. We wanted to see you become better than that,  _ stronger _ than that.”

“Strickler isn’t human,” it was more of a statement.

“No, he is one of my creations,” Jim could’ve swore, for a single moment, that Morgana’s smiled warmed and became genuine, “As are you, my champion.”

* * *

“Why are we going to  _ your _ house to open the package? Didn’t you say your parents were super weird about having guys in your room?

“Well … my parents are out right now.”

“So? I told you my Nana doesn’t really care who visits.”

“And I may have promised to babysit my little brother.”

Toby groaned, “Alright, but I don’t want him to see what we’re doing and going off to tell someone.”

Claire chuckled, “Toby, my brother is, like, six months old.”

“Oh.”

Claire started texting on her phone once they got into the house, Toby carrying the crate, “Where should I put it?”

“Oh! My bedroom is upstairs, second door on the left.”

Toby nodded, trying to hide his sudden excitement as he jumped up the stairs and walked into Claire’s room. He put the crate down on the bed before looking around in amazement, “No way! I’m in a girl’s room! Haha, suck  _ that _ Eli!”

“And I thought my  _ parents _ were weird about guys in girls’ rooms.”

Toby yelped and jumped towards Claire’s direction, seeing her with a blonde baby on her hip, “Sorry, sorry, I, uh … kinda made a bet with Eli.”

Claire groaned as she entered the room, “This bet better not have anything to do with my stuff.”

“Nope! Don’t worry! Didn’t touch a thing!”

Claire sat down next to the crate, looking it over, “It looks like it came from overseas …”

“Maybe greenmen send postcards?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Green  _ things _ , Toby, you don’t know if some of them are female!”

“Aha!” Toby raised his finger, “And you don’t know if they even reproduce sexually! They could, like, bud, or something.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re mammals, Toby.”

“I’m pretty sure the regular rules of biology don’t apply anymore, Claire.”

Enrique giggled and started reaching towards the box as a green glow emitted from its cracks.

Toby’s mouth flew open, “Whoa.”

“Definitely  _ not _ a normal package.” Claire put down Enrique and stood up, “Make sure he doesn’t crawl off the bed, I’m grabbing a crowbar from the garage.”

“What, Claire! Are we actually opening that thing?”

“Well … what did you think we were going to do with it? Use it as a doorstop?”

“What if it’s radioactive! It just glowed!”

“Toby, I’m sure that if someone was shipping uranium, they’d pick something a little more air tight, don’t you think?” With that she left the room.

“Oh geez, oh geez, oh geez!” Toby did  _ not _ feel comfortable being left alone in a room with a baby and a glowing crate. His first time in a girl’s room was looking like  _ nothing _ he had imagined it would.

“Alright, let’s crack this bad boy open,” Claire smiled as she walked back into the room and wedged the crowbar between the crack. At this point Toby had Enrique on his lap in order to ensure he didn’t break the very small, very precious Nunez family member. Eventually Claire put the crate on the floor and made the top fly off with a grunt. Toby, still holding the baby, leaned in, almost bumping heads with Claire as they peered inside at the glowing ring. Claire picked it up, her face scrunched in confusion and focus.

“Looks like a malachite base with protruding prehnite crystals. But it’s probably manmade considering malachite is found with sedimentary rock and prehnite with basaltic rock.”

“Wow, Toby, you sure know a lot about rocks.”

He smiled and folded his arms, “Thank you! I’ve been growing my rock collection since I was five!”

Just then they hear it; rattling on the window. Claire and Toby slowly turn to see a green thing sneer at them, “Waka CHAKA!” Just then a rock came smashing through the window, glass flying into the room.

Claire quickly grabbed her brother and pushed the glowing ring onto the boy, “Hey, Toby, let’s run.”

Toby looked stunned as he watched a stream of green things crawl in, “Yeah, sounds good.”

Claire made sure to use her other hand unoccupied with baby brother to grab the crowbar on their way out. As they flew down the stairs Claire glanced out the front window, seeing the army of green things climbing up the porch to her bedroom. Toby grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the back door. Claire unlocked the fence and the two teen bolted into the forest.

Toby slowed down once they hit the tree line, out of breath, “Wait, why are we doing this?”

“What the hell? Because they’re  _ chasing _ us Toby!”

“They’re only chasing us because the green things,” he motioned his arms back toward the house, “want their green thing back!” He waved the glowing ring in Claire’s face.

“Which is why we’re keeping it.”

“Claire! I’m sorry I was mean to you when you said you wanted to look for Jim, I’m sorry I made fun of Eli, I’m sorry,” he leaned over himself and panted for a bit, “that I’m too out of shape to run from these things, but, Claire, we can’t do this, we’re just kids! We need to give this back to them and forget this thing ever happened.”

Claire was silent for a moment before shaking her head, “You’re right, we  _ are _ kids, but so is Jim. And so are Blake and Nelly. We’re not involving ourselves, whatever is out there is involving  _ us _ by grabbing other kids. That’s why we have to be the ones that stop it.”

Just as Claire stopped talking a growl sounded around them, dozens of glowing eyes staring at them in the dark. Just as the two try to make a run for it again one of the green things gets a hold of Toby by his watch, “My chubby tracker!”

“Toby! You’re going to lose more than a few pounds if you let it rip your arm off!”

Toby managed to shake it off but not without the loss of the overpriced electronic. As they made their way through the forest they did their best to evade the green thing’s attempts to flank them and catch up to them. It didn’t help that Claire was carrying a crying baby with her. At one point she tripped, the green things hanging off of her legs and trying to grab her arms only for her to beat them back with the crowbar, the metal going into contact with their heads with a satisfying thud.

“Wait! That’s my house other there!” Toby pointed in excitement. The duo quickly made their way over. After Toby stumbled with the lock on the gate a few times Claire handed him Enrique and jumped over using the crowbar, unlocking the gate from the other side. By the time the teens made it to the back door the green things were crawling through the gate and over the fence, all grinning and chuckling as they crowded their prey. Toby gave up on the door and went for the light switch. The goblins grumbled and hissed at the too bright light before making a retreat.

Toby whistled, “Good thing Nana invested in some anti-burglary equipment.”

Claire took a bit to calm her breath before answering, her brother held tightly to her chest, “Yeah.”

“Well,” Toby opened the back door, “Welcome to my humble abode!”

Claire looked around at the floral wallpaper, ancient looking fridge and plastic chair set in the kitchen, “Looks cozy.”

“Thanks, I know that it all looks like a grandma’s house, well,  _ is _ a a grandma’s house, but it’s home. How about you drop the dangerous weapon and I can help you get comfortable.”

Claire looked down at the crowbar self-consciously, “It’s a tool, not a weapon.”

Toby muttered, “Could’ve fooled me.”

Claire smiled and put the crowbar on the table, shifting her brother into both arms, “I’m sorry for the bumpy ride,  _ hermanito _ .” Enrique just sighed and turned toward her chest, eyes drifting closed.

“I’ll make us some drinks.” Toby quickly busied himself in the kitchen.

Claire didn’t respond, feeling suddenly awkward standing in Toby’s kitchen as the tension and adrenaline from being chased by supernatural creatures dissipated. Claire tried to look around the room instead of watching Toby’s every move. Her eyes quickly found an array of hanging photos on the wall. One was of Toby and Nana celebrating an early birthday, another was a black and white photo of a much younger looking Nana in her wedding dress with her groom. In another Nana was posing with two middle aged adults holding a baby, which must’ve been Toby. He didn’t look much older than Enrique in the photo.

It slowly dawned on Claire. This was one of the things that some of the kids at school knew but would try not to talk about. Sure, you would have a handful of kids that lived with a different parent on the weekends, or some, like Jim, who grew up with one parent, but having no parents? It’s not something kids liked to think about. Claire couldn’t imagine only having one parent, or being sent away to live with her abuela. Though, if she thought about it, having a 24/7 busy mom didn’t feel like much of an improvement.

“How do you like your tea?”

Claire startled, “Oh, uh, plain.”

“Good,” Toby chuckled, “Less work for me.”

Claire sat down where Toby placed the mug, “You like tea?”

“Oh, uhhhh … I kinda made it out of habit. Jim always thought tea was calming, I would just drink it so he didn’t feel left out.”

Claire smiled and took a sip, “It sounds like you were a good friend.”

Toby’s face fell, “Yeah … maybe …” Silence rang throughout the room, “If I were to be honest, though, Jim was always the type to internalize things. It was always hard to get into his head, to see if something was wrong.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. He would always seem happy to see me and try to put on a relaxed attitude but I always felt like he was worrying about something, especially when he got spacey.”

“Yes!” Toby waved his arms around, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! He would always be in his head and, like, whenever I’d try to talk with him and pin down whatever he was thinking about he’d just blurt out something completely unrelated.”

Claire frowned, setting down her mug, “I miss him, Toby.”

Toby sighed, “Yeah, me, too, Claire. Me, too.”

* * *

“What’s that?” Jim eyed the orange crystal Blinky held out.

“You do not recognize it? We used it when we brought you here.”

The teen scratched his cheek, “I might've been asleep.”

“ _ This _ is a horngazel, made of Heartstone. It is a key, of sorts, that allows us passage between the underground and surface worlds.”

Jim frowned, “You can’t just walk up the stairs to get to the surface?”

Arg shook his head, “Trollmarket hidden, protected.”

“Arg is correct, the only way to go to and from is with this artifact, it is how we protect Trollmarket from wandering eyes and uninvited guests.”

“So … the trollmarket trolls can go to the surface whenever they want? Why haven’t you guys mentioned it before, then?”

“Arg and I often don’t go to the surface for more than an occasional change of scenery, whereas there are other trolls who more or less make a livelihood off of the left over goods of humanity. There are, also, many dangers that come with the surface,” Blinky face became serious, “Jim, before venturing to the world above you must promise to follow three rules.”

“Alright, lay them on me.”

“Firstly, you must never enter direct sunlight, it is best to return to Trollmarket long before dawn. Secondly you must not be seen by humans, they have not been aware of Trollkind’s existence for many a century and exposure in these times may endanger all of Trollkind. And finally, do  _ not _ engage Bular, whatever may happen he is to be avoided at all costs.”

“Bular?”

Arg shook his head, “Son of Gunmar.  _ Strong _ .”

Jim grimaced, “Is that what Draal meant when he said not all Gumgums were exiled to the dark lands?”

Blinky sighed, “It is true, Jim. Some trolls were able to evade the power of the Killehead bridge once Deya the Deliverer set it to draw the Gumgums in and banish them. One of those Trolls is Bular, the only recorded Gumgum to live on the surface of Arcadia.”

“He’s … been living in Arcadia this entire time? A human eating troll?”

“Followed … to new Trollmarket.”

“That’s right! He has been a menace to the remaining of Trollkind since the battle of Killehead. He’s felled more than one unsuspecting troll from Heartstone Trollmarket and we must do our part to make sure he does not do so again.”

“Why … hasn’t the Trollhunter killed him yet?”

“Bular  _ stronger _ .”

Jim looked at Arg in surprise, “Stronger than the Trollhunter?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Blinky tilted his head down, frowning, “Bular has not only bested the average citizen of Trollmarket now and then but also several Trollhunters … including Deya, the very Hunter who banished his father.”

“Oh.”

Blinky suddenly perked up, “But do not fret! He is often times disinterested in scavengers! Now, remember the three rules and we will all be fine.”

Jim felt a bit smaller in that moment, though he often felt small much of the time living in a city populated with nine or more foot tall trolls. Jim had this awful gnawing in the back of his head when considering the implications of Bular’s extended residence in Arcadia Oaks but decided to push it down in order to enjoy his time on the surface.

* * *

Jim was surprised to be brought back to the place he had first met the two troll, though it made sense that this was their usual spot for scavenging. Even though the teen had become desensitized to using and eating what he once considered garbage he had little interest using his first time back above ground going through trash. He picked a high enough pile to sit on and looked out into the valley, Arcadia Oaks twinkling with street lights and moving cars.

After awhile Blinky and Arg took a break and joined their charge, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Humans are quite impressive creatures. They no longer have to fear the night. Not when they’ve invented lights, electricity, and  _ automobiles _ .”

Jim chuckled and looked at the blue troll, “Out of all the Trolls in Trollmarket you seem to like humans the most. Everyone else talks about them like they’re all just stupid walking bags of meat.”

He sighed, “It’s true that I am, perhaps, the most interested in human culture, and that I believe human intellect to be equal to ours. But it is also true that a human’s lifespan is only a small fraction of a troll’s. Many a troll have watched the rise and fall of entire civilizations. It can be hard not to think of the experiences of any single human to be frivolous in the grand scheme of things.”

The teen perked up, “But they’ve also made lots of cool things, right? Stuff Trolls wouldn’t dream of making. Like, maybe even though humans have shorter lifespans they have the ability of creating super advanced civilizations, maybe civilizations more advanced than Trollmarket.”

Blinky sighed, “You’re assuming Trolls would even  _ want _ to implement such technologies. As much as I am inspired by the creative and intellectual products of the human race I cannot help but curse their short-sightedness. So easily they seem to forget the wisdom and hardships of the previous generation, so easily they seem to not see the consequences of their own actions. Human inventions are numerous and great, but at what cost? The lights of the city are beautiful, true, but they’ve hidden all but a few stars. And light pollution is the least of humanity’s worries. When Trolls look to innovate they work within nature to do so, when humans strive to do so, well … you simply have to look around you,” he gestured to the surrounding heap of trash.

Jim frowned, finally seeing the implications of his former species’ success, “Humans are killing the earth.”

“True,” Blinky sighed, “But we needn’t worry too much about that. The plants and animals may die on the surface, but we will have the fruits of the earth’s crust to sustain us. All we can do is enjoy the world as it is now.”

Jim looked up at the sky, “I had a dream … that all the stars were gone, and the city lights were, too, and the darkness looked like it went on forever.”

Blinky stiffened as he exchanged glances with his mate, “Jim … have you heard of the eternal night?”

_ The eternal night is upon us …  _

“No,” he lied, hugging his knees to his chest, “What is it?”

“It is the ultimate goal of the Gumgums, for the day to never again come so that trolls may conquer the surface without fear of perishing, at least from sunlight, that is.”

“If something like that were to happen, what would happen to the humans?”

“Eaten … or enslaved,” Arg chuckled, “Would solve pollution problem.”

Jim startled and looked at the troll with wide eyes before scowling, “Not funny, Arg.” Jim slid down the trash pile, leaving the two trolls.

“Arg!” Blinky scolded.

“Huh? What Arg do?”

Jim didn’t reply, walking away until he couldn’t hear the conversation of his Troll parents.

* * *

Jim didn’t really feel like continuing to listlessly dig up trash for the rest of the trip so he decided to check out the surrounding forest. He was afraid for a moment that doing so bring him back to his early days of being isolated and stuck in an alien body. However, he found that moving through the treetops made him feel mostly at peace. There was something about being a dozen or more feet above the ground that made him feel secure, hidden from the world.

It wasn’t long until he heard his caretakers calling for him. He hopped toward their voices and jumped down next to the two wandering trolls.

“Great Morgusboarg! You  _ are _ a climber, aren’t you, Jim?”

The teen shrugged.

“I’m glad we were able to find you with haste. Arg has something to say to you.”

“Arg should not have said bad thing. Arg sorry.”

Jim blinked, surprised, “What? You shouldn’t say that. It’s the truth, and no one should have to feel bad or apologize for saying the truth.”

“It … bad thing. Not nice. Jim likes the humans.”

Jim chuckled, “Well, I guess that’s true, at least.”

The troll extended a closed fist towards the teen, “Arg has gift for you.”

Jim extended his own open palm to have a familiar orange crystal fall into his hand, “A horngazel?”

“Most trolls given one. Jim keep Arg’s.”

“But won’t that mean you can’t go to the surface?”

“Not alone; but Arg always go with Blinky.”

“I will still have my own horngazel, Jim, should Arg wish to come up here.” He put his hands on Jim’s shoulders and upper arms, “I did not realize it before but you miss the surface world immensely, don’t you, little one?”

Jim blushed and looked away, “I do … sometimes.”

“Then the horngazel will allow you to visit as you please! With some ground rules, of course!”

Jim smiled, “Do these rules also come in three?”

Blinky stilled for a moment, counting the rules in his head, “Not originally, no, but I suppose I could make that happen. Firstly, make sure to come back in time for dinner, without excuse, we do not want any close calls when it comes to daybreak. Secondly, give us advanced notice if you plan to stay out for extended periods of time. Finally, do  _ not _ engage Bular.”

“Blinky, you just copied the third rule from the  _ first _ set of rules.”

“Exactly! Because it is the most important!”

Jim rolled his eyes.

Arg stepped forward, “We … okay?”

He smiled, “Yeah, we’re good, Arg. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm gonna do once I post all of my written chapters, I don't wanna leave you guys hanging much more than I have to. Especially with the winter hiatus.
> 
> Either way, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter complete with a high speed chase and a clumsily wedged in environmental message!
> 
> And I hope I'll see you around for the next chapter! Until then!


	8. Chapter 8

Jim had to admit the scene was picturesque. Near the foot of the mountain the trees thinned out along a stream. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the rustling leaves as Jim leaned back and watched a herd of deer graze and drink. The kids from the city might turn their noses up at Arcadia’s quaint single story stores and rows of old, boxy colonials but they all had to spend a week’s allowance on gas and a handful of hours to get to the same place Jim could eventually bike to.  Trees, grass, and a view to die for were only a few minutes away for the teen, and he had always felt at ease in the forests surrounding his hometown.

“It is perhaps why you hid here,” a familiar voice said next to him on the log where he was sitting.

The teen looked down at his arm, watching his blue grey skin color under the dancing speckled light, “Where else could I have gone? Even in that state I knew that I couldn’t let anyone see what I had turned into. I ran … and I hid, and I became so good at it I … gave up on ever talking to someone again.”

“Until you met the trolls.”

The teen chuckled, “They looked a lot more like the new me than anyone else who was looking for me, I trusted them.”

“You’re not a troll, though.”

He frowned, curling in on himself. He eyed the armored woman, “I don’t know  _ what _ I am.”

“You are troll  _ and _ human. A unique being all your own.”

The teen clenched his fists, “I don’t want to be.”

“We live in a world indifferent to our dreams and desires, our losses and pain. We never get what we want, not without going and getting it for ourselves.”

Jim kept his knees to his chest but looked up at the woman in golden armor, “You said that I could be with the humans again, does that mean you’d change me back?”

She sighed but met him in the eye, “No, I meant that, even though I’d be apprehensive to do so, I’d give you a second form, much like a changeling. If it was not to encourage you to help me, then I would not have offered it at all. I’ve made hundreds of changelings. And, though, at the time, I was proud of my new design, after time went on, after they more or less became another part of the world, I became so  _ bored _ of them. 

I made you to be my one and only Champion, I would hate to have to make your likeness to your lesser brethren even closer. As for why I will not ‘change you back’, simply speaking, flesh is easier to change than stone, it is naturally more dynamic, adaptive, more  _ fluid _ . That is one of the reasons for why my changelings are designed the way they are. Even with  _ my _ magic it’s impossible for me to change a troll into a human. It would be easier to change you into a full troll than it would be for me to undo all my changes.”

Jim deflated, “So there really is no going back …”

Morgana looked back out at the clearing, “All I can promise you is a human form, I cannot guarantee success in anything you choose to do with it.”

Jim shook, trying to still the tears gathering in his eyes, “And what if that’s not enough?”

Morgana tilted her head up at the clear, blue sky, “Then it’s not enough.”

* * *

“What do you think it does?” Claire asked as she leaned in closer to the ring.

He sighed, “I don’t know, but I’m  _ very _ uncomfortable with the fact you brought it to school,” her partner replied dryly. He was consistently glancing up and down the hall to see if anyone was paying attention to him and Claire.

“Oh, come on, TP! I didn’t want to leave it at home for my parents or the green things to find, especially with my window still broken. It’s actually safest here, if you ask me.”

Toby crossed his arms, “What if they’re at school? Huh? Ever thought of that?”

She shook her head, “Don’t you think we would’ve seen one sooner, then?”

He threw his hands up, “Oh, I don’t know! They’re creepy, stalky, crawly-y! You know what I mean! They can sneak around and stuff. They could be right under our noses and we’d have no idea! What I’m trying to say, Claire, is that we’re way in over our heads, here!”

“I’d have to agree with you, Mr. Domzalski.”

Toby yelped and jumped and Claire froze as they spotted the school’s favorite History Teacher looming behind them.

“I’ll be taking that off your hands, Ms. Nunez.” he lightly tugged at the rock and crystal ring, Claire too surprised to put up a fight.

Toby scowled, “What’s your deal?!”

He frowned, “My  _ deal _ , Mr. Domzalski, is that you and Ms. Nuñez have come to school with a rare and precious artifact that was originally intended to go to the museum, where I volunteer.” He rubbed a couple crystal bits with his sweater before continuing, “Are you two aware that intentionally stealing another’s parcel is a felony?” He waited for the teens to reply but sighed when they continued to stare, “Let’s just say you’re lucky I’m the one who found you two with it. My colleagues would be less … forgiving.”

Toby snapped out of his shock first, “So what is it?”

“Excuse me?” 

Toby stepped closer, “You work for the museum, so you must know what it is.”

The teacher cleared his throat, “If you really must know before the exhibit opens: this is a rare rock formation formed in a near perfect circle, there are only a few like it in the world.”

Toby crossed his arms, “Liar.”

The teacher seemed amused, a light smile on his face, “Oh?”

“Those two rocks don’t naturally grow next to each other, even  _ if _ I believed a near perfect circular rock formation was possible! That thing is man made!” Toby smiled, “Or, more specifically,  _ not _ man made.”

All of the emotion drained from Strickler’s face leaving a cold, indifferent mask. Claire involuntarily shivered and took a step back as the teacher looked Toby dead in the eye and spoke, “I’m going to say this, because you’re both Jim’s friends and he cares about you two; if you continue down this path you  _ will _ get hurt. Whatever curiosity you feel, bury it. Whatever question you have, forget it. Whatever strange things you may have seen or experienced, never think of it again. Do you understand?”

Toby felt his chest ache, “You know what happened to him.”

Strickler looked away with a frown, “At this point, all I know is that he’s not here.”

“Just like how you wanted.” Toby accused without missing a beat. He didn’t fully understand what was going on with his teacher, but he intended to find out.

The man’s eyes went back to Toby, as he gave out a humorless chuckle, “Tell yourself whatever you need to, Toby. I know what it’s like to lose a friend, how hard it can be to get through. Might I suggest you bring these concerns with the school counselor?”

Toby lowered his voice, “You were the last person to see him. I know Jim wouldn’t have left if nothing was wrong.” The teen’s voice cracked as his fists tightened, “What did you  _ do _ to him?”

The teacher’s face morphed in anger as his eyes changed red, “I would  _ never _ do something to harm Jim!” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, when they opened his eyes were back to their usual green, “If you will not desist for your own sake, at least do so for Jim’s.” He turned and left, leaving the two teens staring at his retreating form.

Claire put her hand on Toby’s back, “How about we go get some fresh air?”

The Californian weather was temperate as always, even in the middle of winter, as Claire and Toby took their spots underneath a tree near the soccer field. It was their lunch period but neither of them really felt hungry. Toby leaned against the trunk, staring at the clear sky. Claire was huddled with her knees to chest as she absentmindedly played with the grass.

Toby was the first to break the silence, “Did you see his eyes?”

Claire jolted in surprise, “I kinda thought I imagined that.”

“If we  _ both _ saw it …”

Claire bit her lip before breathily replying, “Yeah …”

“Our history teacher might not be human,” he said matter-of-factly.

Claire leaned further into her knees and swallowed, “Toby … I’m scared, for the first time, I’m — I’m  _ terrified _ .”

Toby laughed bitterly, “Well about time!”

Claire looked at him, eyes narrowed, “What?”

“I’ve been about to shit my pants since we started! Especially when we were chased! God, I’m going to have nightmares for years over that!”

Claire chuckled, “Maybe you were right to be scared this entire time.” She frowned, “Toby, should we stop?”

“I …” Toby looked out at the soccer field, as if the fake grass would give him an easy answer, “I don’t know.”

“You were right … about having a weird feeling about Strickler. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t know. What if he really didn’t do anything to Jim? He sounded upset.”

“He sounded  _ defensive _ .”

Toby snorted, “You’re starting to sound like me.”

The girl leaned in to bump shoulders, “Maybe you’re just rubbing off on me.”

He rolled his eyes, “I can only hope.” Just then Toby’s phone beeped a notification, “Oh shit! I just got a T-Shirt!”

“Huh?” Claire leaned in to look at Toby’s phone, “For what?”

“For my chubby tracker!” He explained cheerfully, “If you get enough steps in they’ll send you prizes! I’ve been working really hard at it until,” he frowned, “Until I lost it … wait, that green thing probably still has it and it’s been racking up major points for me since then!”

“Toby! Does your chubby tracker have GPS? Can you see where it is?”

“Yeah, that’s actually a feature on the app, let me bring it up!” He tapped some options on the screen, bringing up a map, “Is that … the park?”

“It’s the museum,” Claire said in realization, “Toby, now we have multiple links between the green things and Strickler. The ring, the museum, the fact that Strickler probably isn’t human. It’s too much to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Toby sighed, “We’re not stopping, are we?”

She gave him a big smile, “Nope.”

* * *

Barbara squinted at the page of the cookbook, taking note of Jim’s modifications written in his neat but loopy handwriting. It felt like everytime she looked away from the carbonara recipe she did something wrong. Were the eggs whisked, or separated, or both? Was the cheese incorporated into the sauce or was it added last, as a topping?

While she was trying to study the details she realized that she hadn’t heard the timer go off. She swore under her breath as she grabbed the pot off the stove. She looked down at the pasta swirling in the water. When she tried to stir it the pasta clumped together then broke apart. She dumped both the water and the pasta in one egzagerated motion.

She took a deep breath but found her emotions spiraling. Cooking pasta was the most basic step and she already messed that up. She gripped the edge of the sink and looked out the window, her breathing deep but uneven. Why was she even trying? To force some sense of mundanity and normality? Nothing was going to go back to normal until she got her son back.

She thought about her missing boy everyday but cooking was one of the things that reminded her of him the most. He tried so hard to help her out with everything he could, it made her want to go back in time and thank him all the more for helping keep her together after James left.

The doctor was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice Walt enter the kitchen, or the tears rolling down her cheeks, “Barbara?” Her husband called out, concerned.

She didn’t move or look away from the window, still clutching the sink, “I ruined it.”

The Brit walked over and looked around, “Remaking the pasta is easy, Barbara, especially since you have all the other ingredients prepped.” He sighed and stood beside her putting an arm over her shoulders, “I have a feeling this is about more than pasta … you know, you don’t have to cook, I’m fine with doing it, especially if it upsets you to this degree.”

Barbara closed her eyes and leaned into her husband’s touch with a sigh, “Maybe we  _ should _ have dinner with the Domzalski’s.”

Walt stiffened, “That might not be a good idea …”

She finally turned towards him, moving his arm off her shoulders, but holding his hand in both of hers, “Why is that?”

“Toby probably wouldn’t want his teacher interrupting his family meals.”

“I thought Toby liked you … more or less.”

He sighed and looked away, “If seems we should go with ‘less’ considering he publicly accused me of causing Jim’s disappearance at school today.”

Barbara gasped, “That … that doesn’t sound like Toby!”

He nodded, placing his other hand on her cheek, “You’re not the only one affected by what’s happened, Jim is a good kid, many people relied on him, especially young Tobias. I encouraged him to speak with the school counselor but, for now, it’s probably for the best that we give him his own space.”

Barbara’s eyes lowered, “Walt … I’m worried for him.”

“I am, too, but I know that Tobias is a reasonable boy with a good head on his shoulders. I’m sure whatever was brewing in that mind of his is out of his system now.”

Barbara looked unconvinced, “If you say so.”

Walt smiled, his hand resting on his jacket opening, “I  _ know _ so.”

* * *

Jim lifted his head and sniffed as he felt the wind blow in his direction, inhaling all the scents of Downtown Arcadia from a second story rooftop. It was a crisp and clear night, with a handful of stars twinkling through the light pollution of the nearby west coast cities. By this time most stores were closed with only a few humans walking to and from the small variety of pubs and bars.

It was a perfect time for the teen to test his new body in the concrete forests. Jim never admitted his love for those trick shot and parkour videos online to anyone; it would just make his mother worry and his best friend roll his eyes, but that didn’t stop him from watching them, and fantasizing about imitating them. Jim snapped his neck side to side before shaking out his arms. There was no better time than the present. After all, he could scale a fifty foot tree in a matter of seconds and had stone skin. He could do this.

The teen closed his eyes and took a deep breathe before giving himself a running start. The alley he needed to jump over was pretty narrow, something he probably could’ve cleared back when he was human, but he was still nervous. All his fears were for nothing, though, when he not only cleared the alley but more or less jumped three times further than he was expecting and landed on his feet. He crouched down for awhile, catching his breath, before his face broke out into a huge smile.

He leaped over wider and wider gaps, climbed taller and taller buildings. At one point he braced himself before jumping over the entire two lane street, his grin never vanishing as he did so. Soon after he jumped across the street a second time he heard footsteps behind him. As he whipped around he saw a woman and recognized her as the woman from his school field trip to the museum.

“Um,” Jim slowly stood up, rising his hands, “I can explain.”

She calmly smiled, “Oh, there’s no need.”

In a flash of light the quiet museum employee was replaced with a tall, slender troll. Jim stumbled backwards in shock. At this point he was comfortable with the many differences between humans and trolls, but knowing that changelings existed and actually seeing one  _ change _ were very different things. Jim stayed very still, hearing his heart race and feeling the tension grip his stomach like a vice.

“I’m tired of hearing Strickler whine about you, so I’m bringing you to him.”

Jim’s brain finally caught up to what was happening, “To Strickler?”

The pink troll rolled her eyes, “That’s what I just said.”

A part of the teen still wished this was all a dream, that his step-dad wasn’t a changeling, that he was actually in sleeping in his old bedroom and would wake up and make everyone breakfast, but Jim always had the worst luck with these kinds of things. Trolls existed, changelings existed, wars controlled by opposing wizards existed, and he had been thrown in the middle of all of it. Jim was tired of it. He looked Nomura straight in the eye and shuffled his feet into a lower fighting position, one Kanjigar taught him, “And what if I don’t want to come with you?”

She flat out tilted her head up and groaned, “Look kid, I have little to no idea what’s going on with you and your daddy, but if I ever want him to shut up about his pseudo-offspring then I gotta bring you in. I assure you, it’s nothing personal.”

Jim growled, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

She emitted a long sigh before reaching behind her and wielding two glowing scythes, “Hard way it is, then.”

Jim barely had enough time to unsheathe his own blade to parry Nomura’s, their weapons emitting sparks on contact.

She quickly jumped back, “So  _ that’s _ how a whelp has been evading the Order for this long, you’ve been in Trollmarket this entire time!”

Jim tensed, his eyes widening, “What?”

She motioned to Jim’s dagger, “The blade, kid. That grip is made for troll hands, not changeling’s. I bet you’re struggling just to keep a hold on it.” She jumped forward again, the curved blade wrapped around Jim’s and disarming him with a flick of the wrist.

Jim stared at the blade on the ground for a few seconds before turning tail and making a run for it. Just behind him, though, he heard the cackling of his opponent, “Run all you want, kid! I’ve had my form for centuries, and you’ve had yours for months! Run and stumble around like a newborn fawn!”

Jim wasn’t sure if he was stumbling like a newborn fawn, but he was definitely losing ground to the changeling as they raced across the rooftops of Arcadia. Jim had to think. Lesson one was to always be afraid. Boy did he have  _ that _ one down. Lesson two was … use your environment to your advantage. Jim could do that … maybe. Depends on the environment, doesn’t it? The teen was already using what shortcuts and weird angles he knew about and either Nomura knew these rooftops better than him or he wasn’t nearly as fast as he thought he was.

There had to be  _ something _ . Jim took a deep breath and focused. On the edge of his mind he felt small sparks of energy. Similar to how he had felt the energy off of the Heartstone when he entered the market for the first time. He followed the trail only to land in front of a door with a keypad next to it. Jim looked at it purplexed, wondering exactly where the energy was coming from when he heard Nomura's hoofed feet clank against the cement of the roof.

“Dead end,  _ brat _ .”

Panicked the teen smashed the keypad. As electricity crawled against his skin he realized the keypad, or what was powering it,  _ was _ the energy he felt. Without thinking he extended his other arm towards Nomura, the electricity zapping outwards towards the Changeling.

She fell back in shock, barely catching herself with a single arm braced to the ground before slowly standing up, “What … the hell … was  _ that _ ?”

Jim didn’t respond beyond breathing heavily, only realizing that he still had his hand in the circuits of the keypad after a few moments as he startled and quickly pulled his arm away, eyes never leaving his pursuer.

She raised her arms in diplomacy, “You know what kid? I think I’m just gonna leave you alone for the night; just listen to this. I don’t know what those weirdos down in Trollmarket  _ think _ you are, but you’re not a troll. You don’t look like a troll, move like a troll, or even  _ fight _ like a troll. From my eyes, everything about you screams Changeling. And maybe you’re doing all this because you’re angry at your dad. Fine, I get it, you gotta have  _ something _ to rebel against. But there are worse things than being a Changeling … like being alone.” She looked to her side, “The sooner you understand that your place is within the Order, the better it will be for all of us.”

And with that, she was gone.

* * *

Jim had been staring at his reflection in the clear pool of water in the crystal garden for an hour by the time Blinky found him, “Jim?”

Jim didn’t reply, continuing to stare into the pool.

Blinky came up to the teen, sitting where he was crouched.

It was only when the reflection of the water changed to include Blinky did Jim notice his presence, only drawing attention to difference between the two, “The trolls were right to think I was a changeling …”

“What?! No one dare thought you were a changeling!”

Jim finally took his eyes off the pool with a snort, “My Trollish might suck, but I’m not  _ stupid _ , Blinky.”

The adoptive parent looked taken aback, “No, you’re not stupid. But the others … can lose sight of their priorities when they think they smell blood in the air.”

Jim’s gaze lowered as he tucked his knees closer into his body, “I’m not a real troll, I was stupid to even entertain that I might be.”

“Jim … where is this coming from?”

The teen threw his arms out in exaggeration, “ _ Look _ at me! I have ten fingers, and a weird nose, and, and, I’m so  _ small _ .” He looked down and sighed, “I’m the only one like me, I’m alone.”

Blinky wrapped his arms around the teen, “ _ Unique _ does not mean alone.”

Jim shivered before reluctantly leaning into the embrace, “I don’t belong anywhere like this, but if I change, then … I’ll just be an imitation of the real thing.” His mind flashed back to his dreams, “Like NotMom and NotToby and NotClaire!”

Blinky pulled him outward, concern obvious on his features, “I’m … not sure I understand your use of metaphor, Jim.”

“It’s just that,” he swallowed, trying to get his thoughts together, “Do you think … that someone can be happy when trying to be something else? Because even if I go back I’ll be different. Isn’t that just … faking it?”

“Well …” the troll hesitantly started, “Everyone strives to learn and grow from their experiences, that’s just a part of life. In a way … changing  _ is _ an authentic part of our character. There is nothing wrong with the fact that you are different now from who you used to be. And if, in the future, you are different from who you are now, then there is nothing wrong with that, either.” He gathered Jim’s two hands into his four, “No matter who you are or who you were or who you might one day become, you will always have a place with Arg and I.”

The teen’s long ears tilted downward as he looked up at his caregiver, “Really?”

“Absolutely.” 

Jim smiled, “Thanks Blinky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOooohhhh, crap! We getting REAL serious this chapter! With a sweet Blinky & Jim moment at the end :')
> 
> The ride will be a bit bumpy from here on out so enjoy your week and see you next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, WE'RE BREAKING INTO THE MUSEUM THIS CHAPTER
> 
> Also, sorry this was a few days late, I've been trying to post around Monday but it kinda got away from me this week.
> 
> Regardless thank you for coming back this weak and all of the kudos and positive feedback. I got a lot of positive comments about last week's chapter so thank you all for the encouragement!

It was almost nostalgic how Toby found himself hiding in a bush with his classmate. Tonight they were going to break into the museum. Oh god,  _ they were going to break into the museum _ . The boy took a few deep breaths.

“Ready?” his accomplice asked.

He nodded, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two crept from out the bush and headed towards a side door that lead to the basement: everyone knows you can’t break and enter through the front entrance. They saw that the door was locked and Claire unclipped one of her colorful hair clips and fiddled it in the lock.

“How am I not surprised you can do that?”

She shrugged, “My uncle flips houses, he buys them cheap off the foreclosure auction. A lot of the time the previous owners don’t hand over the keys so we basically have to break into our own properties.”

“And people don’t think that’s specious?”

“Well, we tell the neighbors first, obviously.” She grinned as the lock finally emitted a loud click, the metal door slowly swinging inward.

The two quietly went through the doorway, immediately greeted by the many unlabeled crates of the museum’s storage, and other large objects draped in white sheets,  causing long, irregular shadows to stretch across the room from the small, highly placed windows of the basement.

“Is it too late to turn back?”

Claire shoulder bumped him, “Comon', Toby, we already broke and entered, we might as well stick around to do the fun part.”

He sighed, “So what exactly are we looking for here?”

Claire glanced around the room, “Anything unusual.”

“Ummmm … I’m pretty sure the point of a museum is to keep unusual things.”

“Then we better start now if we wanna finish by morning.” With that she walked off without so much a glance.

Toby held back a groan, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked to the other side of the room. At first Toby examined his half of the basement, a little bewildered with the amount of  _ stuff _ , before noticing what was probably the largest figure in the room. Shoved into the corner, fully covered by a white sheet was a tall, curved object. Toby frowned at the mysterious object as he made his way to it.

Grabbing the cloth and pulling it down revealed a large stone arch. Toby turned on his phone’s flashlight to get a better look.

“Ummmm, Claire?” He called out in the dark room, “I think you should come see this.”

Claire quickly came over squinted at their new discovery, “Hey … Toby. Don’t the carvings kinda look like those stone monsters Eli had on his cork board?”

“Claire, green things are one thing, stone people are …” Toby’s mind conjured the image of his teacher, staring at him with inhuman eyes,  “ … another.”

Claire put her hands on her hips, “Are you going to call Eli crazy  _ now _ ?”

Toby threw his hands up, “I don’t know, Claire! Maybe stone people exist, maybe this is all a dream, or an elaborate prank. Maybe the matrix is breaking or maybe I’m actually senile in an old folk’s home and imagining all this. Right now anything could be true!”

Claire smiled, “Maybe we should start our own cork board.”

“We are  _ not _ starting a crazy person board!”

She chuckled, “Fine, but at least take a photo.”

Toby snapped a quick picture on his phone. While checking the picture he heard Claire going up a set of stairs. He whirled around and shout-whispered, “Claire! What are you doing?!?”

“Going up to the ground floor.”

“Don’t you think we should, you know, quit while we’re ahead?”

She sighed and turned around, “Toby, we’ve only scratched the surface. Whatever else is here, we have to find it.”

Toby warred with his desire to be curled up safe in bed and finding out what happened to Jim. He signed, he could always sleep when he was dead, “Fine, but I’m giving us half an hour. Tops.”

Claire grinned and waited for Toby to catch up as they opened the basement door to the familiar tiled floor and tall ceilings, various items displayed on podiums against the wall. If you asked Toby, the places where visitors were  _ supposed _ to be were even creepier at night than the basement. Maybe it was because the teen had always hated being alone in places but it was hard for him to see how this was the same museum as the brightly lit public space in his memories. The echoing their footsteps made against the linoleum didn’t help, either.

Suddenly Claire pushes him to the wall and crowds him against a podium. Before he can verbally protest she leans towards his ear, “Nomura is right up ahead.” Toby chances a glance around the podium to she Nomura examining the stone ring before … before … Toby looks behind at Claire and see from her shocked face that, yes, she had seen it, too. Before he can think to comment, though, a glob of green goo falls onto her cheek, making both teens look up. Toby wished they hadn’t though, because it takes all he can from not verbalizing his terror. Claire must’ve been in the same predicament, judging by the way her body trembled against Toby’s.

“Mmmmm, I  _ thought _ I smelled adolescent fear.” A long, purple face with glowing green eyes spoke before dragging the two out from their hiding spaces by the arms. Toby’s not proud of the fact he screamed as he tried to trash out of the woman’s grip. Claire was shocked still, her eyes wide and unfocused. Eventually Nomura threw them down in the middle of the main exhibit hall, “You’re the ones who took the fetch, aren’t you?” The teens stared at her in silence.

She snorted, “Of course, it’s always the young ones that haven’t learned to mind their own goddamn business. Kids, and law enforcement, that is. But, hey, at least the law can be threaten or bribed. But not the kids, almost never the kids. Kids have never worried about missing rent, never feared for their lives. Never held a whelp and realized you’d do anything to keep it alive.” She crouched down on her digitigrade legs, sighing, “And that’s way I have to kill you. It’s nothing personal, honest. It’s just that you two aren’t going to keep your mouths shut unless you’re six feet under.”

“I can’t allow you to do that,” Walter walked into the exhibit hall, tan suit as faultless as his composure.

Nomura groaned as she straightened, “I knew you had something to do with the human brats, Stricklander. You  _ always _ have something to do with the human brats lately.”

“Nomura, you can’t kill them, not so shortly after Jim’s disappearance. The humans will become suspicious.”

She unsheathed the two scythes from her back, pointing one at the man, “And who’s fault is that?”

Immediately the teacher’s expression changed from feigned confidence to one of outward distaste, “Whatever problem you have with my recent decisions, it has little to do with these children.”

She tsked, “That’s where you’re wrong Stricklander. I know that these two were the ones to grab the fetch, my goblins told me so. And I would  _ love _ to know how the fetch then came into  _ your _ hands. It’s almost like you  _ wanted _ my plan to fail.”

The man let loose a low growl, “I  _ told _ you goblins were unreliable, Nomura, something like this was bound to happen.”

She emitted a humorless chuckle, “Unreliable? Like the human postal service so notoriously is? This is why when you want something done right, you send a Changeling.” She sighed, her blade not moving from where she held it up, “Stricklander, your insistence on protecting these brats at this point is bordering on betrayal towards your own kind. And I’m sure if Bular ever caught wind of it he would agree.” Her eyes narrowed, “So now I’m asking you to choose. Will they live or die?”

Strickler took a deep breath, before being taken over by a blinding light. The new green creature quickly shrugged his shoulders, as if shaking of the last remnants of his humanity before lowering his gaze back at Nomura, “Run.” he whispered before sending a handful of knives towards his opponent.

The two teens didn’t need to be told twice, booking it in the direction of the front entrance. Nomura hissed as she jumped over the projectiles, landing in front of the other Changeling, her strikes being met in parries, “I saw your brat the other day.” The teachers eyes widened. “He knew how to hold his own against me, so he was either trained by you … or Trollmarket.” Strickler’s arms wobbled slightly in their stalemate, but he made no move to change their position. The woman’s eye narrowed, “That’s what I thought.”

The man growled just then, kicking her in the stomach and sending her flying before throwing another round of knives where she would land. However, she immediately rolled to the side as she landed, hiding behind a display. She glanced to her right to see the dark haired teen start to open the front door. With a grace practiced over centuries she threw a green dagger straight and true.

Claire heard the blade long before she saw it, ducking just in time for the dagger to miss her head, embedding itself into the door, closing it with its momentum. Before she and Toby could think of their next step they saw the goblins pouring into the hallway from both sides, closing in on them. High on fear and adrenaline she grabbed Toby and pushed him a bit down the hall and against the wall underneath a window.

“Claire, it’s too —” he was interrupted by the other teen getting onto his shoulders, determined to get the window open.

Nomura slowly came out of her hiding spot, her eyes begging her superior to see sense, “Strickler … you haven’t created an asset to the Order … you’ve created an adversary. You can steel-arm me to keep quiet for as long as you’d like, but what happens when Bular finds out?”

He gritted his teeth, “He won’t find out,” he nervously licked his tusk, “The only people who know are you … and Morgana.”

Nomura took a step backwards, watching her brethren's every move before sheathing her weapons, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Claire! Hurry!” the smaller teen shouted as he watched the goblins become closer and closer. Finally the window swung open with a hiss.

She jumped off of her accomplice’s shoulders, “Let me boost you up.”

“What? And leave you alone?”

“I’m taller than you, I’ll make it on my own.”

“I’m not —”

“ _ You first _ ,” her tone left no room for arguing as she boosted the boy up and over the window ledge. Shortly after Claire silently prayed for her freshman year of track and field to pay off as she used the armrest of the bench to the side as her jumping point, barely grabbing the ledge by her fingertip before she felt something grab her ankles. She looked down and suppressed a scream when she saw two green things hugging her legs, looking up at her with matching too-wide smiles. 

She quickly smashed her shins into the wall, knocking the two off of her before getting a better grip and hoisting herself through one leg at a time. She was almost all the way through when another hopped on her leg, causing her to lose her balance. She fell on the outside, not having expected Toby to have been waiting to catch her. As she landed in his arms in bridal pose the two teens shared a disbelieving look before looking up and seeing more green things crawl out the window, like dozens of mammalian spiders clinging to the walls. The two made a run for it, sprinting across the mall of the museum and city hall. They didn’t stop until they made it to the street, breathing heavily while leaning over their knees.

“That was …” Toby started.

“Yeah … yeah …” Claire voiced.

When they finally caught their breath enough to straighten up they shared a long look … before Claire erupted in giggles. Toby, equally high off of endorphins, didn’t even try to repress the belly laugh. The two were so preoccupied leaning against each other and laughing their asses off they didn’t notice the police cruisers pull up. Not until they heard one of the car doors opening and Mr. Scott’s voice call out, “You two are in  _ big _ trouble.”

* * *

 

Jim was out for a stroll, enjoying the crisp winter air. He had been good at following Blinky’s rules so far, and he intended to keep it that way so that he could steal the occasional evening out by himself. In Jim’s mind his encounter with Nomura sorta  _ felt _ like it had broken one of the rules, but he was only told not to engage  _ Bular _ , Blinky never said anything about Changelings. But then again, Blinky might not even believe that there  _ are _ Changelings in Arcadia, despite Jim’s outbreak that fateful night in the pub’s alleyway.

He was strolling the parameter between forest and resident area, where the tree line stopped before comfy colonial homes of Arcadia. The teen wasn’t really afraid of being seen this late, or rather, this early in the morning. Plus, it was kinda interesting what people had in their backyards. There were elaborate gardens, worn picnic tables and grills meant to feed entire family reunions, colorful swing sets and playground equipment, and suspicious dilapidated sheds. Sometimes Jim would know of the person who lived there but other times he was left curious as to what the resident of the property was actually like.

Jim was halfway through making a backstory for the neighbor who owned the creepy shed when he saw a familiar glow from direction of the canal. The teen grinned, excited to potentially get a jump on his new combat teacher. However, when he reached the ledge of the canal he saw that something had already beat him to the punch. The teen stared wide eyed for a moment as he watched the bird-like creature dive after Kanjigar, the Trollhunter doing his best to bat it away with Daylight.

“Oi! Ugly!” Jim shouted as he slid down towards his tutor.

Kanjigar looked his way, his eyes frantic as he parried another attempted grabbing. As the boy came closer the flying beast’s attention also shifted. Letting out a fearsome low caw, it flew off without much more fanfare.

The Trollhunter turned to his protege, but did not seem happy, “Jim.”

“Master Kanjigar!” the teen looked skyward, trying to spot the creature, “What  _ was _ that thing?!”

“That,” the troll breathed heavily out his nose, “Is none of your business.”

The teen’s mouth opened to reply, but no sound came out, as he stared at the other in surprise.

“We are returning to Trollmarket,” he turned away from the teen, walking towards the bridge. When he sensed Jim was not following he turned his head and growled, “Now.”

Jim closed his mouth and trailed behind, body language weighed down in dejection. He made sure to stay a good few feet behind, still fully cognizant of the Hunter’s foul mood.

* * *

 

“What were you  _ thinking _ breaking into a museum for a — for an expensive pedometer?!” Dr. Lake scolded the boy.

Toby stole a glance over at Claire, who was getting her own talking to a few dozen feet away. Toby worried his bottom lip. Knowing that Claire’s mom was a councilwoman Toby had a feeling that Claire’s punishment was going to be a lot more severe than whatever his Nana would come up with.

“Toby, are you listening to me?” Dr. Lake’s hand was resting on her hip at this point in the universal scolding mom pose.

“Sorry, I, uh, I’m just worried about Claire. This was all my idea. I freaked out a bit when I realized I lost my chubby tracker and she offered to come with me for moral support so … I don’t want to see her get in trouble because of my stupid idea. She’s been a really good friend to me since … you know.”

The doctor’s expression softened at that. She kneeled down and put both hands on Toby’s shoulder, “Toby, I know things have been hard for you lately, and I’m glad you’re making new friends. Really, I am. But both you and Claire should’ve known that it’s not appropriate, or  _ legal _ , to break into a museum in the middle of the night.”

“I’d have to concur.”

The red head stood up, relief blooming across her face, “Walter.”

“I’ve spoken with Ms. Nomura and she has agreed to not press any charges. In addition,” the teacher reached inside his blazer, producing Toby’s chubby tracker before handing it to the boy, “Next time it would be prudent of you to check the lost and found first … during business hours.”

“Thanks …” Toby reached out for the fitness watch and strapped it onto his wrist.

“Barbara, I’ll drive young Tobias home.”

She frowned, “Are you sure? Nana had asked me to speak to the police on her behalf, I was already planning on driving him home.”

He nodded, “You have an early shift tomorrow. Plus I’ve been meaning to have my own chat with the boy.”

Barbara’s lips grew into a lopsided smile as she leaned in closer and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Promise me you’ll go gentle on him.”

He answered back with his own wayward grin, “I am nothing if not gentle.”

She hummed in agreement before leaning in for a quick kiss, “I’ll see you back home.”

Toby was glad for the way Strickler silently lead him to his car after that, almost feeling a little nauseous after having witnessed that display of affection. It was only when Strickler had opened the passenger seat door for him that Toby started to feel nervous. The man must’ve sensed it because he commented, “The part of the night where you run for your life is quite finished. I only assumed that you might have questions.” With that he entered the driver’s side.

The teen took a deep breath and hopped in, deciding to trust the man for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the bridge and Stalkling have been introduced! And only 30,000 words in ;)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been awhile guys! I wanted to try and build up a back log of written chapters again because I didn't know where I wanted to put which scene and wanted to figure out how I'm structuring the "middle" part of the fic's plot.
> 
> I feel like, starting with this chapter we'll be entering Act 2 and that it'll end up either as long, or longer, than Act 1. And this trend might continue with Act 3. The weird thing is that I feel pretty confident with where I want Act 3 to go, but I'm not completely sure about Act 2. Do any of you have that problem? That you can clearly see the beginning and end but the middle is kinda fuzzy?
> 
> Either way, I hope you like this chapter as much as I do!

Jim was in the courtyard of a medieval castle, sun fighting to peek through the overcast of a cloudy day. The teen looked around conspiratorially at first, almost expecting someone to call him out on his modern clothes or trollish features. When no one did, he relaxed, leaning against the stone wall and marvelling at the period clothing. Maybe he was at a Ren Faire, maybe that’s why no one thought he was out of place.

Around the edges of the clearing many servants walked to and from, going in and out of doors, often in a hurry and carrying various supplies with them. Finally Jim’s eyes fell onto a young teenage girl and a small boy. Both were wearing fine clothing that distinguished them from the surrounding servants. The boy was on the ground, crying, probably after having fallen.

The girl smiled as she leaned down, her dark twin braids falling to her front as she comforted the boy.

“You know,” a voice beside Jim spoke, startling him, “This war isn’t  _ really _ about the Gumgums.” She was still in her rigid and angled armor, even while looking at the two children interact.

Jim quirked an incredulous eyebrow, “It’s not?”

“No … it’s about that boy over there.”

Jim looked back at the child, clutching his knee and whining to his teenage caregiver, “The war has to do with a little boy?”

Something crossed the witch’s face Jim hadn’t seen before, “He didn’t stay a little boy for long.” She sighed as the scene became blurry.

Jim woke up with a sadness he told himself wasn’t entirely his.

* * *

 

Strickler came home to see his wife on the living room couch going through photo albums, tears falling unbridled down her cheeks. He sighed, taking off his blazer as he stood in front of the red head.

“Barbara?” he whispered, almost afraid that anything louder would break her.

She didn’t look up, speaking in an equally quiet voice, “They called today.”

“They?”

Her hand trembled over one of the photos, “The case is cold.”

He frowned, “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means they haven’t found anything,” she turned a page and took a few minutes to stare at the album before continuing, “And they don’t expect to.”

When her breath hitched the man felt the urge to sit next to and comfort her but stopped in his tracks when he saw multiple photographs of Jim staring up at him.

“He’s gone.”

A dark feeling settled in his stomach. He wasn’t gone, Strickler even knew where he was now, not that he could reveal any of that to the grieving woman. So he just stood there, saying nothing, as the world continued without Jim by their side.

* * *

 

Jim flew through the book under him, not really reading any of the words but looking at each illustration for any similarities to what he saw attacking the Trollhunter. So far he wasn’t having much luck. Exactly how many creatures out there were some variation of worm, snake, or eel? Too many, if you asked Jim. The only think he saw with wings so far were pixies and from what the teen could remember they were barely any bigger than your common insect.

He was about to call it a night when he turned the page and saw it. A fearsome, black illustration of a large winged reptilian but stone creature. Its name was titled above the picture but Jim could only make out the suffix for  _ troll _ , the same as in Changeling. This thing was a troll? He squinted, trying to make sense of the following body of text but the only word that was clear to him was  _ hunt _ . The word appeared in the paragraph multiple times but he couldn’t gleam any context from it.

“Blinky!” the teen exclaimed.

His father lowered his own reading material with a sigh, “I’m only on the other side of the room, Jim, you needn’t shout.”

Jim ignored the comment as he jogged up to the troll and trusted the open book into his face, “Can you translate this for me?”

Blinky pushed the book far enough away from his face to actually see it correctly, “What are asking me to translate?”

Jim pointed to the illustration, “Information on the … Huntling, or, whatever.”

“It’s called a  _ Stalkling _ , Jim.”

“I don’t care what it’s called,” he whined, “Tell me what it says!!”

He rolled his eyes in defeat before taking the book from his son, “The Stalkling is a unique troll; both with the ability to fly and be in direct sunlight. It makes its appearance in bestiaries, however, due to its lack of language and predatory behaviors. All trolls have hunting instincts but when a Stalkling chooses its prey it has never been known to change targets until its chosen has perished; either due to its direct predation or other causes. Because of this compulsive nature speculation as to a Stalkling’s general intelligence is a hotly debated subject with some scholars insisting that Stalklings have the same intelligence as the average Troll and others claiming that they are nothing more than mindless beasts.

“The answer may never be found as scholars have also been stomped in unearthing how Stalklings have become what they are today, or even, if they are to be considered trolls at all. Often used to represent untimely death, or the occurrence of dying alone in art. The Stalkling is known to never attack its prey while in the presence of a third party. As of this time there has been no recorded Stalkling slayings, and there remains no known weaknesses. Thanks to their persistence and ariel abilities many a fine warrior have met their end at the tips of these creatures’ claws.”

Jim stared up at Blinky, biting his lip in thought before putting his facade back on and grabbing the book back, “Okay! Thanks Blinky.”

The troll blinked in surprise as he watched the teen run out the library, book in hand. Jim may or may not had already memorized the Trollhunter’s schedule (Trolls didn’t use cellphones, so Jim had multiple schedules memorized in order to find people), so he wasn’t surprised to find the warrior walking down a bustling market road, “Master Kanjigar!”

He showed no signs of having heard the teen but quickened his pace ever so slightly. Jim frowned and softly huffed out his nose in irritation before catching up with his mentor. “I know what I saw yesterday,” he spoke when he made it to the Trollhunter’s side, “It’s right here in this —” Jim was about to open the book when the warrior grabbed his wrist and dragged him down an alleyway.

“Jim!” He turned to the teen and hissed, having yet to release his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“I — I looked up the creature that was attacking you.”

“Did I not make it clear that I don’t want you involved in my affairs?”

The teen looked lost, “Well … why not?”

Kanjigar let go of him and sighed, “The life of a Trollhunter is always in peril, and it’s my duty to protect Trollmarket’s citizens, like yourself.”

“But I can help you!”

“I don’t want your help.”

“But you could die!”

“That is old news, little one. If I perish it will be while performing my duties, like all Trollhunters before me.”

“The book says that Stalklings don’t attack if their targets aren’t alone. All I have to do come with you on your patrols to the surface!”

“And if Bular were to engage me?”

Jim’s blood ran cold. He had never seen the Gumgum prince but he had seen the illustrations and understood, deep down, that he had been responsible for the many disappearances in Arcadia. The teen swallowed, “Well … then you wouldn’t be alone anymore, would you? I would be able to leave while you battled.”

The troll was silent for a moment, thinking of his response.

“And … we could count it as my training?”

He sighed and shook his head, not believing this was happening, “Fine, but the moment you put yourself in harm’s way I’m backing out of this ill-informed idea of yours.”

Jim perked up, “Got it! No problem! I’m awesome at staying out of trouble, if my name isn’t Jim the Fleer.”

The Hunter raised an eyebrow at that, “Careful, or that moniker may stick.”

* * *

 

“So … the green things are goblins,” Claire summarized, sitting on her bed.

“Yup,” Toby muttered slumped over the back of his accomplices’ desk chair.

“The people who can change are called  _ changelings _ .”

“Mmhmm.”

“Okay, but what exactly do they  _ change into _ ?”

The boy sighed, “We didn’t exactly get into that.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Well, why not?”

“Because Mr. Strickler was being  _ super _ vague and it was only, like, a 5 minute car ride.”

She groaned, “Who else knows about all this?”

“Human-wise? It might be just us, or, uh, Eli, also, if you wanna count him.”

Claire’s voice softened to a near whisper, “That’s not a lot of people.”

Toby paused in thought, “Jim might know. One thing Mrs. Nomura said was that Jim was in Trollmarket now. When I asked Mr. Strickler what Trollmarket was, all he told me was that Jim was in a place none of us could get to. What if …  _ Jim _ found out all of  _ this _ and had to go into hiding?”

She frowned, “A place where even Mr. Strickler can’t go? I know we were looking into him because he seemed suspicious but … I can’t help but feel he’s a good guy? I mean, he saved us. Why would Jim also hide from him?”

Toby fidgeted with his hands, thinking over his words, “I don’t know  _ what  _ Strickler is. It could’ve been that Jim was freaked out about learning things  _ or _ …”

“Either way,” Claire interrupted any dangerous trains of thought, “If we want to find Jim, we’ll have to find a way into Trollmarket.”

* * *

 

Many a troll were uneasy around Trollmarket’s leader, Vendel. His species of troll were known for the milky eyes associated with blindness while actually having adequate vision. This had thrown off many a visitor unfamiliar with this fact. But it wasn’t just Vendel’s vision that threw people off, it was his insight. As the market’s healer he was often expected to quickly distinguish a troll’s ales, but just as easily Vendel could tell a Troll’s character.

Regardless of  his occupation as healer he was also infamous for his grumpiness and bluntness. Yes, many a troll were uneasy around Vendel, but Blinkous did not count himself as one of them. That’s why, as Vendel stared irritated at his bookshelf, not seeming to have heard his name being called, Blinky simply tried again softer, “Vendel, I need to talk to you.”

The old troll sighed and finally turned to the other, “Yes? What is it?”

Blinkous frowned and cupped all four hands in worry, “It’s about Jim.”

“What did he do this time?”

Blinky placed his lower hands on his hips in disagreement, “He didn’t do anything! At least … I don’t think he did … ”

Vendel raised an eyebrow, “Then what is it?”

“It’s,” the troll sighed, “I think he is receiving prophetic dreams.”

“Oh?”

Blinky’s hands moved side to side to illustrate each example, “When he first heard us speak of Changelings he, well, had a bad reaction, claiming that Changelings were in Arcadia. Another time he mentioned a dream in which  _ the night went on forever _ . And, just today, he asked me to translate a text about  _ Stralklings _ of all things!”

Vendel leaned on his staff looking bored, “And you don’t think he could’ve gotten this information from elsewhere?”

Blinky tilted his head, “Where … else would he have learned all this?”

Vendel shook his head, “We shall see, won’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! Any happy father's day everyone! What better way to celebrate than updating this fic and giving a fictional character daddy issues?


End file.
